The Professors' Point of View
by alittleinsane963
Summary: Admit it, you've always been curious about what the professors were thinking while Harry, Ron, and Hermione got themselves into all kinds of shenanigans.
1. Philosopher's Stone

To old readers, hello! I've finally returned, and I hope you think my new stuff is as fun as my old stuff! I look forward to "hearing" from you again!

To new readers, hello! I'm glad you've stumbled upon my story and I hope you like it! I'd love to know what you think, so be sure to let me know.

Without futher ado... The Professors' Point of View!

* * *

><p><em><strong>ONE - <strong>_(in book, lines up with) _**The Letters from No One, The Keeper of the Keys**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p><em>I'm getting rather tired of<em>_ thinking of creative ways to try to get Harry Potter his letter, Dumbledore…_

What would you have me do about it?

_Let me go in and talk to them!_

Oh, yes. Send short-fused Minerva McGonagall in to talk to the magic hating Muggles about sending their nephew to Hogwarts! That's certain to go well.

_Surely you, of all people Minerva, can think of a few more good ideas to get a point across._

_Yesterday I__ helped Hagrid put the letters in the Dursley's eggs! How do you make something more obvious?_

Sheer numbers.

_Fine! I'll__ make enough letters to flood their house, but I'm telling you they still won't respond!_

* * *

><p><em>Will you send someone to go speak with the Dursley's now, Dumbledore?<em>

Not just yet.

_They're trying to run from us, Dumbledore! Just what are you waiting for?_

The right opportunity. I'll know it when I see it.

_You frustrating old man!_

* * *

><p><em>There! They're on a rock in the middle of the sea! Is that opportunity enough for you, Dumbledore?<em>

Yes, it is. I've sent Hagrid to deliver Harry's letter.

_Hagrid? I've been bothering you since those letters were first sent out and you send HAGRID?_

I thought it'd be best if it weren't one of Harry's future teachers barging in and then taking him to get his school supplies. It might lower his opinion of said teacher, or scare him completely of the school itself.

Maybe it's just me, but if Hagrid came to me and told me about some school that I hardly knew anything about, I'd be a bit frightened of it. After all, Hagrid's not exactly your average man.

I've sent Hagrid and that's that. He's likely there now. It's far too late to turn back.

_Let's look on the bright side of things, shall we? Harry Potter will finally come back to where he belongs!_

_**I don't think it will be of any particular advantage to have a Potter at Hogwarts again.**_

_Come now, Severus! _

_**The boy will no doubt be as arrogant and troublemaking as his father.**_

_Contrary to your belief, Severus, James was not an awful person!_

_**He fooled me marvelously into thinking so.**_

You're only going to make your next seven years more miserable than you usually do if you decide to hate Harry this early on, Severus! You haven't even met him.

_Oh, goodness! The other students! They'll be unmanageable once they find out he's here._

_What'll become of Harry? It's not as if he'd be used to such attention!_

_**He'll grow remarkably pigheaded and fill the traditional role of a Potter.**_

I've heard he looks just like James.

_We'll find out soon enough, won't we?_

Do you think we'll still be able to see the scar?

_Even if we can it wouldn't be right to ogle at it, Pomona. The other students will be staring at him enough!_

Of course I won't stare, not enough for anyone else to see, at least. There will be plenty of opportunity in the coming years to look at it. The last of the Potters is coming back to Hogwarts! Oh, so exciting!

I would recommend not getting carried away, Pomona. I believe you'll do well to treat him just as any other student. 

_Merlin's beard! Sibyll's going to have a field day. _

Oh my… well, he has at least two years to brace himself to face her. I doubt she'll "cloud the Inner Eye" by coming down to the feast, even if it would be to see Harry Potter.

Marvelous, I've just received word from Hagrid.

What's he said? Go on!

He says the weather's horrible.

Oh, you're horrible! He's said more than that! Out with it!

Well, Minerva, you'll be happy to know Harry's finally gotten his letter. 

_Of the hundreds I've written, I'm glad he finally got one. What on earth the Dursleys did with the others…_

I'm sure Hagrid will tell us when he returns.

Oh, my… Has anyone given a thought as to what house Mr. Potter will be in?

_Gryffindor, of course! Just like his parents. _

_Don't go getting your hopes up too high, Minerva! Houses don't necessarily run in families._

_Explain to me how all of the Weasleys to date have been in Gryffindor, then. _

It's all in the way the parents raise their children, I think. Now since Harry wasn't raised by James and Lily, who can say what house he'll be in?

_You just want Hufflepuff to get some attention._

Well we deserve it!

_But it's HUFFLEPUFF._

And just what is that supposed to mean, Minerva?

_Nothing of consequence, Pomona. _

_Wouldn't it be a laugh if he ended up in Slytherin?_

I think Severus has already made up his mind to kill the boy if that should happen!

_**How very amusing, Pomona.**_

I do try, Severus.

_A Potter in Slytherin? The thought's laughable!_

Well we'll just see what house Potter lands in at the Sorting Ceremony, won't we?

_Yes, we will._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

The promised Teachers' Notebook for the Golden Trio Era has finally made an appearance! Huzzah! I'll update as soon as I can, but you have to be a little bit patient as I have to read the books as I write this story.

Be sure to leave me a review! =D


	2. Chapter 2

_**TWO - The Sorting Hat**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p><em>Might I just take a moment to say – <em>

Oh, no. Here we go.

_I'VE GOT POTTER! I'VE GOT POTTER! Harry Potter's a Gryffindor!_

_Yes, yes. Congratulations, Minerva._

_I knew I should have made a bet with you, Pomona!_

Yes, well, you didn't, and I'm not stupid enough to make bets on something that already happened.

_Oh, I wonder if he'll be as good as James at Quidditch!_

_**I sincerely doubt one half decent player would be enough to help the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Minerva.**_

_That's quite enough from you, Severus!_

_**Contrary to everyone's belief, Potters are not godly figures and there is no need to worship them as such. **_

_Yes, because I, of all people, put certain students on pedestals._

_It's far too early in the year for you two to start going at each other's throats! _

Filius, I think it's pointless to fight the fact that they'll be arguing continuously for the next seven years.

_I hereby claim myself not a part to any of the coming arguments, then._

Seconded!

_Severus can try to argue all he wants. We all know I usually win in the end._

_**Remind me, Minerva, as it has slipped my mind – What house has won the Cup six years in a row?**_

If someone else doesn't get it this year…

_I think I'd prefer Severus getting it again to Minerva getting it now._

_Pray tell, why, Filius?_

_Because you would not stop talking about it if you did!_

_I'd only rub it in Severus's face._

Let's leave this conversation behind and start the term on a good note, shall we?

_I already have started it on a good note. And do you know why?_

Because you've got Potter.

_That's right! Harry Potter's a Gryffindor!_

It's a pity the Weasley twins will be taking up so much of your time that you won't be able to pay any attention to Potter. I hold to what I said at the end of last term, I'm not even dealing with them anymore. I'll just send them straight to you.

_Oh, don't do that! I've hardly got any time as it is._

_**Perhaps if you properly disciplined the brats they'd stop being such bothers.**_

_I resent that, Snape! You know full well I've done everything I can without bothering poor Molly Weasley every other day with what nonsense they've gotten involved with. _

_**I assure you a week's worth of detention with me would set them straight.**_

_Then you give them the detentions and prove me wrong. Go on!_

_Argument, halt!_

_So help me, Severus, I will turn you into a slug by the end of the year if you keep purposely annoying me._

_I see my requests are of no consequence to you… _

_**If you had learned to check your temper, Minerva, I wouldn't be able to annoy you.**_

That's a bit unfair. She's much better than she used to be. You ought to have seen her in your school days!

_**I shudder at the thought.**_

_Ha ha ha. So clever._

_On a different note entirely, __did Hagrid ever pitch in his bit to protecting you-know-what, Dumbledore?_

Yes, he did. I wish anyone the best of luck attempting to get through it. 

_Don't tell me it's the Cerberus…_

_**Why don't you go check?**_

_I'll pass, thank you._

What'd he name that thing?

_Fluffy._

Hagrid would, wouldn't he?

_**No doubt he thinks the creature once thought to guard the gates to the underworld is quite cute and harmless.**_

_If he thought it was harmless he wouldn't put it over the trapdoor, would he?_

I think I'm off to bed. I'd recommend you all go to sleep soon, as well. First day of classes tomorrow!

Oh, goody.

_Do I detect a hint of sarcasm, Pomona?_

Me? Sarcastic? Whatever on this earth would make you think that I'm capable of sarcasm?

_Let's not get started on that, shall we?_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

And thus we begin to get into the actual plot of the book...

Wanna feel super awesome? Leave a review!


	3. Chapter 3

_**THREE - The Midnight Duel**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Quirrel**

* * *

><p><em>Draco Malfoy is certainly his father's son!<em>

Well I would hope so…

_**I suppose you want me to ask what brings about that comment?**_

_Neville Longbottom got a gift from Augusta in the mail today and Malfoy walked right on up and took it out of the poor boy's hands. _

_**Simply looking. **_

_Yes, I'm sure. Whatever the case, he nearly sparked a fight because he's got no manners._

_**Don't you have a class at this moment, Minerva?**_

_Next block, I do. And they're seventh years, so if they can't figure out how to work out spells without my help, I've failed them miserably as a teacher. _

_DON'T say anything to that, Severus._

_**I wouldn't. I'd be a fool to deny that you teach well. **_

_Oh, bravo! Let's keep up with the compliments, shall we?_

Wishful thinking, Filius.

**Minerva, how do you suggest handling the Weasley twins?**

_-sigh- Send them to me, Quinirus. I'll – Hold that thought!_

Minerva?

**I can't really afford to have that thought held, Minerva…**

_**You could always curse the little whelps into oblivion.**_

Severus!

_Tell them to see Minerva after class, Quinirus. I'm sure that threat will keep them calmed down for the duration of the period._

**Than you, Professor Flitwick.**

_It's no trouble._

Oh, goodness. Madame Hooch just walked past my office with Longbottom… it looks like he's broken something.

_**That comes as no surprise. He's the clumsiest thing I've ever seen.**_

He's just jumpy! I probably would be, too, if Augusta Longbottom had raised me.

_**I thought he would have learned to follow instructions better, at least. **_

You leave him alone! He's a sweet boy.

_I think he just needs to find that subject he's good at, something to boost his confidence. _

A feat I'm sure Severus is not helping with.

_Don't you start arguing, too!_

Well he's asking for it!

_**I've done nothing of the sort. **_

Lies.

_Severus Snape, eat your heart out! I've found a new Seeker and you're not going to like it! _

_Oh Dumbledore!_

I've been summoned?

_I need to request permission to bend the rules a bit and get a first year a broom._

_**No! That's not a bend, that's a break.**_

_He's really a phenomenal flier. In all honesty, he's getting a broom either way, but I figured I'd be polite and ask you, first. _

Who is this?

_Harry Potter! He's a natural._

_**Dumbledore, I must object to this strongly. **_

_Oh, hang Snape! That boy is going to play Quidditch for Gryffindor. _

_**If you let Potter have a broom, Headmaster, then all the first years are going to want a broom!**_

I see no particular issue with making a single exception. If you find him a broom and keep it quiet, Minerva, I see no reason for him to be forbidden from playing. 

_Ha ha! Just you wait, Snape! Harry's already as good as Charlie Weasley, and he hasn't had any training at all yet! Once Wood works with him a while…_

_**Are you finished, Minerva?**_

_Oh no, this is only the beginning!_

Don't get ahead of yourself, Minerva! I'd really love to not have to deal with the fit you'll throw if Slytherin beats Gryffindor.

_Believe you me, it'll be Severus throwing the fit._

_**I don't throw fits. **_

_Sulking in the shadows, then._

_**How amusing, but seeing as how my house slaughtered yours in Quidditch last year, I see no reason to fear your single "phenomenal" flier. **_

_Your house plays dirty, and you know it! _

_**Continue to find excuses, by all means, Minerva. It won't change anything.**_

_Mark my words, Severus, Gryffindor will knock Slytherin off its high and mighty chair before the year is through!_

_I declare myself not a part of this brewing issue. _

A wise decision, I think. I'll join you in it.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

The chapters will get longer, I promise.

I thoroughly enjoy reviews. Leave one? ;)


	4. Chapter 4

_**FOUR - Halloween**_

Dumbledore

_Minerva_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Quirrell**

* * *

><p>I can't believe it! I just can't believe it! How on EARTH did a TROLL get into Hogwarts?<p>

_I haven't the foggiest! _

Can you imagine what could have happened? It could have killed someone!

_**I believe the more important question is the one you first asked, Pomona: how did it get in here? It had to have been let in by someone; trolls are too stupid to **__**figure out how to open doors, much less get into Hogwarts, of all places.**_

_No, no, no! We are not going to start playing the blame game! I will NOT be made suspicious of my coworkers!_

_**But if one of said coworkers was guilty, wouldn't you like to know?**_

_Yes, but it wasn't one of them._

_**Then it was a student.**_

_No!_

_**Then you're in denial, which is very foolish.**_

_Seeing as that conversation is going nowhere, we should think about why someone would let a troll in._

All it did was cause pandemonium.

_A distraction! Albus! You don't think anyone knows what's going on with the third floor corridor, do you?_

Outside of the six I have asked to help protect it and Nicholas himself, no.

_**Then this leaves our options as to who would have had motive to let the troll in very limited. **_

_Stop it, Severus!_

Come, now! I, for one, don't suspect any of you and you all have my fullest trust.

_Here, here!_

**It takes a very certain type of person to let such a monster in. I don't think any of you are cruel enough to be that type of person.**

_Thank you, Pomnona, Filius, Quinirus! See there, Severus? You're the only suspicious one._

_**Then leave me to my suspicions. **_

Where did you find the troll, anyway?

_In the girl's bathroom. Hermione Granger, of all students, ran off by herself thinking she could take the troll!_

What? You're joking!

_I'm not._

_Merlin's beard! The girl could have been killed!_

_Lucky for her, her classmates went after her._

Oh?

_Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley managed to knock the troll out._

_Well I hope you gave them proper credit!_

_Likely not as much as they deserved, I was too worried and angry. Can you imagine the uproar if Potter had been killed here?_

I'd prefer not to.

_And Merlin's beard I'd hate to have to tell Molly Weasley one of her sons was dead._

_**She's got so many others I'd doubt she'd notice. **_

_I'm ignoring you, Severus._

_You can't act as though you were only worried of the consequences of their deaths, Minerva!_

_Well of course not._

I still don't understand how the blasted thing could have gotten in here!

It doesn't seem like we'll be getting an answer tonight, or perhaps anytime soon.

So what do you recommend? Doing nothing until whoever it was brings in a dragon, or something?

That would be a trick, indeed. Whatever may happen next, I have full confidence that my staff could handle the situation. 

_Unless some students try to handle it first… again._

_**Granger's a show-off know-it-all, I don't know how you're surprised that she went off on her own and I certainly wouldn't think it a shock if she attempted it a second time. Of course Potter went after her. He is his father's son, and would therefore hate for anyone else to get the credit for such a feat. Weasley tagged along simply because that's what he's been doing all his life. **_

_I see so many things wrong it that previous pack of lies that I'm not going to point them out because you know they're wrong, too!_

_**On the contrary, I believe them all to be quite true. **_

_You're simply determined to find faults with the whole of my house. I won't have it. _

I'm quite certain there will not be another beast let into Hogwarts, this year at least. Let us therefore let the troll incident stand alone. I'm sure the mystery of it will be unwound as time goes on. 

_Agreed! I'm off to bed! Goodnight!_

Be sure to check under your bed for anymore monsters that may be lurking around.

_Hardy har, har, Pomona._

_Come on now, Albus. You can't really think that this isn't a big deal?_

I think it will be revealed in time.

_Time? That thing almost killed three students and you're just going to let it go?_

Seeing as no one was actually harmed, I think it wise to let the mastermind of the attack stop and recollect their thoughts rather than act rashly under attack. 

_Oh, yes, fantastic idea. Let whoever it is think of a more clever and efficient way of killing off students without any of our interference!_

If their intention were to kill students, I'm sure they would have let something other than a troll in. Dangerous as they are, they wouldn't be my first choice to kill anyone off. 

_Then you agree with the theory that the troll was let in as some sort of distraction?_

I neither agree nor disagree with the theory.

_Now you're just playing mind games! _

What reason do I have to play mind games at this current point in time?

_I'm done!_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I've finished writing everything from the first book! Yay!

Let me know what you think! Review, please!


	5. Chapter 5

_**FIVE - Quidditch**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Quirrell**

* * *

><p><em>Eat it, Snape!<em>

So begins a full week of Minerva's nonstop bragging…

_Come on, Severus! Say it! Slytherin lost the Quidditch match!_

_**I fail to see what difference saying it would make. **_

_Admit that you lost!_

_**I've no need to admit it! The whole school was there to see it!**_

_I think this bodes well for Gryffindor for the rest of the year, don't you?_

I think I'M going to gag you if you don't shut up. I already had to listen to you during dinner!

_Even through the nasty tricks Slytherin pulled… Flint could have knocked Potter off his broom, you know!_

_**I've no control over what the Slytherin students do on the Quidditch field, Minerva.**_

_You might talk to them about playing with a little dignity!_

What do you think made Potter's broom act up?

_I haven't a clue! I bought that broom myself and there was absolutely nothing wrong with it._

_**Then obviously someone in the crowd was jinxing it.**_

Nonsense! Who'd want to kill Potter in front of hundreds of witnesses like that? It's not even guaranteed he would have died if he had fallen.

_I've just come back from having a conversation with Hagrid, and you won't believe what he's told me!_

Go on!

_Potter, Weasley, and even Miss Granger seem to think that you, Severus, were the one cursing Potter's broom!_

_**How cute of them.**_

_Snape…_

_**Of course I wasn't, Minerva! I'm not an unintelligent person. If I were to try to harm a student, would it really be during a Quidditch match?**_

**If I may, the trio may be trying to find fault with you simply to retaliate for your… harsh treatment.**

_**And just what is that supposed to mean, Quirrelll?**_

_Oh, don't be so naive, Severus! It's no secret at all how unfairly you deal out punishment. _

_**Speaking of punishment… SOMEONE lit my robes on fire during the match…**_

_Don't look at me! I was too busy keeping Jordan in check. _

_**The flames were blue. If I'm not mistaken, I've seen Miss Granger perform that charm before.**_

_Don't you dare! You know she wouldn't. _

_**We also thought she wouldn't go after a troll by herself.**_

She's far too respectful of us professors to light us on fire, Severus!

_To be fair, she's relaxed quite a bit since the troll incident. Not enough to light a teacher on fire, though. I think you're imagining things, Severus. I was sitting two seats down from you and I didn't see anything!_

_**Because you were watching Potter! Is no one else wondering why they would suspect me of trying to kill him?**_

_No! It's no mystery. You clearly hate the boy and make very little effort to hide it. It's natural they would suspect you of attempting to kill him, especially since whatever jinx was used had to be powerful, far outside the knowledge of any student that might know him well enough to hate him. _

_**Of course, siding with your Gryffindors. **_

_If I saw logic in your argument, I'd side with you. Dumbledore! Where are you? Surely you have something to say on this whole matter with the broom?_

I was not present at the game. I am very upset to hear that this happened, however. 

_NO! Weasleys! They are not sneaking food into the common room again!_

I believe that lets Minerva out of the conversation.

_Oh, this is not going to end well. Weasley and Weasley just popped out of a portrait on my floor. _

Minus double points for running, then. So much for Gryffindors' lead!

Now that everyone else is off and away… What can you tell me, Severus?

_**It was him. Granger knocked him down on her way to me, I think, or else I would have had her in detention for a week. **_

Did she really light you on fire?

_**Yes. **_

Clever! I suppose she used those little blue flames she seems so good at creating?

_**That'd be my guess. She ran off with a jar in her hand. **_

Oh, bravo! That's advanced for a first year!

_**I might be more impressed had she not used the charm on me.**_

You weren't hurt at all, and Mr. Potter's just fine. Perhaps more important to you, however, is that you've finally squared your life debt with James. 

_**I suppose. **_

I'd best be off to bed, I think. Good night, Severus!

_**Good night, Headmaster.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Now comes the time when I ask you to review, whether it be to tell me I did a good job, a terrible one, or if there's anything you think I'm missing or something you'd like to see more of. Really, I want to know what you think! Review!


	6. Chapter 6

_**SIX – The Mirror of Erised**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Quirrell**

* * *

><p><em>Happy Christmas!<em>

_And a happy Christmas to you, too, Minerva!_

Christmas is such a wonderful time! Everyone's always so happy!

_Have I told you thank you for those gloves, Albus? They're quite comfy._

I'm glad you enjoy them, Filius!

_Why is it you won't ever tell us what you want for Christmas, Dumbledore? It makes shopping a little difficult._

I'm perfectly content with what I have. 

_You're so very frustrating sometimes, do you know?_

Well I do try my hardest. 

_Where on earth's Pomona?_

_She's visiting her brother, just like she said she was going to._

_I thought she was joking!_

_That's awful, Filius!_

_Well she hasn't ever actually gone before when she said she was._

_That's because things kept popping up._

Those sweaters the Weasleys were wearing at dinner looked remarkably comfortable. 

_I like them, if only because I can tell the twins apart for a day._

_Mrs. Weasley knits those herself, doesn't she?_

_I believe so. I thought it was kind of her to make Potter one. _

_Well she couldn't leave the boy out now, could she?_

There is almost no doubt in my mind she knows nearly every bit as much about Mr. Potter as Mr. Ron Weasley knows. 

_Oh, well of course. _

_Would I have been imagining things when I heard Potter and Weasley joking about Potter's aunt and uncle giving him fifty pence as his present?_

_Likely not. From the bits and pieces I've heard and seen, Petunia Dursley is not one much for gifts to anyone except her own son._

_Seen, Minerva? You're not spying on the Dursleys now, are you?_

_Oh, don't be ridiculous. I wouldn't waste my time. _

_Had to ask. _

_Sure you did. _

_Where's Severus? He'd normally have made some smart remark by now. _

_**I'm glad to know you've missed my sarcasm. **_

_There you are! I haven't wished you a happy Christmas yet!_

_**Thank you. **_

_Where were you all that time?_

_**There was a disturbance in the library. **_

_Who on earth would go to the library on Christmas? Filius wouldn't even!_

_I'm not quite sure how to respond to that…_

_**I don't know who was in the library. They managed to get away. **_

Did they now? How did they manage?

_**I've no idea.**_

Interesting…

_You know, don't you?_

Know what?

_Who it was and how they got away?_

What a ridiculous suggestion!

_Ridiculous, indeed. Of course you know. You're just not telling us. _

_I'm sure it was simply a student that couldn't go to bed. It's Christmas! Let's give them come slack. _

_**Well we'll have to, seeing as we didn't catch them.**_

_We? This is all you, Severus!_

_No! It's Christmas! I won't have it ruined by your bickering. _

_Very well, Filius. I'll respect your wish. _

_Thank you!_

…

_There are other things that can be discussed, you know._

_Not without disrespecting your wish, I fear. _

_Let's try talking about something outside of Hogwarts, then! _

_Filius, we ARE Hogwarts. What else is there to discuss?_

_I can dream, can't I?_

_Very well. What shall we discuss?_

…_So how about those Chudley Cannons?_

_Excuse me; I have to be sick now._

_They're not THAT bad…_

_**Don't fool yourself, Filius. Of course they are.**_

_-sigh-_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

So... the chapters are currently annoyingly short and lack the humor that I've grown accustomed to using, but I'm getting more comfortable with the characters and things are picking up in the chapters I've written ahead. Yay!

-waves hand through air- You want to leave me a review. (Bonus points if you get the reference I just made. Fail if you do not.)


	7. Chapter 7

_**SEVEN – Nicholas Flamel**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Fltiwick_

_**Snape**_

**Quirrell**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Potter knows, Dumbledore<strong>_

-sigh- I suppose it'd only be a matter of time between the three of them. Madame Pince says they've been spending an inordinate amount of time in the library.

_**What's more, I'm positive he still thinks that I'm the one he needs to watch. He followed me into the forest when I met with Quirrell today.**_

I'd rather he be following you, who is innocent, then follow someone who is actually dangerous. Let him continue to suspect you. 

_**Quirrell's getting close, too. **_

I'd expect no less.

_**What do you plan on doing?**_

I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

* * *

><p><em>Gryffindor's in the lead! I don't think a Quidditch match has EVER ended so quickly!<em>

Yes, yes, Minerva. We were all there, so shut up.

_I am sorry that was your house, Pomona. I'll tell you what, let's talk to Severus about his reffing, shall we?_

_**I've no comment.**_

_Certainly you do! Why did you volunteer to take Hooch's spot in the first place?_

_**See my previous remark.**_

_You weren't planning on sabotaging anyone, were you, Severus?_

I wish he had.

_Stop your pouting, Pomona! Hufflepuff's still got a chance against Ravenclaw!_

_I'm not sure we'll be able to play if Jones has another meltdown over O.W.L.S. _

Meltdowns already? You can't be serious!

_**What else do you expect from a Ravenclaw?**_

The Ravenclaws in my year were so overly prepared that they actually got sleep in the week before O.W.L.S., believe it or not.

_**How things change over the years…**_

_You're not off the hook yet, Severus!_

Agreed! I'd still like to know why you decided to ref all of a sudden for the first time since you began teaching here!

_**I've already said that I have no comment.**_

Really, I'd accept the answer that you were trying to boost Hufflepuff's chances.

_That only makes your team sound inferior, Pomona._

Shut it, Minerva!

_Oh, my. Hagrid looks like he's just gotten back from Hogsmeade…_

_Not again! Really, Dumbledore, you ought to talk to him! This is a SCHOOL, for crying out loud!_

He'll learn his lesson.

_But he LISTENS to you! If you spoke with him – _

_Come, now, Hagrid's an adult. He can handle himself… I think._

_Fine. I'm off to go break up the victory party taking place in Gryffindor Tower._

-glare-

_You don't scare me, Pomona._

You'll be singing a different tune within forty eight hours. I guarantee it!

_Just what are you planning, Pomona?_

Oh, nothing!

_You're not exactly fooling me._

Well I can't tell you, that'd simply ruin the fun!

_And just who will this be fun for?_

Me, of course!

I would request you don't graffiti Minerva's bedroom walls again. It took poor Argus three days to get rid of it and Minerva was not exactly happy, if you recall. 

Please, Albus. Like I'd do the same thing twice!

-sigh-

_I think I'll claim deniability and go to bed now. Good night!_

_**Deniability doesn't work so well when there's written proof that you have no deniability.**_

_I trust that none of you would turn me in. I'd certainly help you keep away from Minerva's wrath._

_**Very well. I'll allow you deniability.**_

_Good man!_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Hi. I like you. Review?


	8. Chapter 8

_**EIGHT – Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback, The Forbidden Forest**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Quirrell**

* * *

><p><em>I can't believe it! What idiotic children! Honestly, four out in one night, and all for some stupid prank!<em>

_**Oh, those meddling little Gryffindors…**_

_Shut it, Snape! One of yours was out, too!_

_**Yes, but Mr. Malfoy was not the mastermind of the plot. I must give my thanks to you for losing your temper with your own house, Minerva. It looks like I'll be getting the Cup this year after all… What a pity.**_

_Well what would you have done, Severus?_

I don't know what Severus would have done, but I certainly wouldn't have taken 150 points from my house, especially if we were the favorite to take the Cup away from Slytherin for the first time in six years!

_So this is my fault now?_

Yes! How many points did you take from Malfoy? And how many points did you take from each of your students? Even poor Longbottom, who was merely dragged in.

What's done is done. There is absolutely no use in being upset over it.

I beg to differ.

Come on, now. Let's cooperate, set an example for the students!

_Agreed! What would Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy say if they saw their Heads of House arguing like this?_

_**If we were lucky, they'd die of shock and we'd be rid of them both.**_

_What's this? Complaining about your own house?_

_**It is hardly a secret that Draco is – **_

_A typical Malfoy? Yes, I thought this was established long ago, yet you continue to allow yourself to favorite him._

I'd rather one favor their own house than dock 150 points from them!

_Merlin's beard, Pomona! Let it GO!_

No! If it were ME that had –

_**Here we go…**_

Shut it, Severus.

_**We all know the dance you're about to perform, Pomona. I could do it myself by now.**_

_Severus, dance? Now there's an interesting idea!_

Oh! I do have to agree with that. I wonder if we could get away with the Imperius for that one?

_**Allow me to assure you that you would sincerely regret such an attempt, Pomona.**_

I think it'd be worth it in the end. What do you think, Minerva? A waltz? A tango might be asking for a bit much.

_A tango would be asking for a LOT much, and I wouldn't particularly care to see that, thank you very much!_

_**If I weren't thankful for your rejection of the idea I might consider being offended.**_

What would it take to get you to dance, Severus?

_**Nothing you could possibly procure.**_

Come on, give a hint!

_**Absolutely not.**_

Killjoy.

_That's Severus._

You're a killjoy, too! Losing any chance of taking the Cup from Slytherin…

_Back on this now, are we?_

Well it is a big deal, Minerva. I think it deserves to be brought up time and time again, as punishment, though I hardly think that's enough for such a crime.

_So help me, Pomona, if you charm my brush again…_

Charm your brush? What on earth are you referring to?

_Your revenge for my House beating yours in Quidditch? You charmed my brush to knot itself so horribly in my hair that I had to cut it out?_

That would be very sneaky and underhanded of me.

_Indeed._

That doesn't sound like something I'd do.

_Sounds more like something you wouldn't admit to, even though everyone knows it was you._

Would I really do something like that?

_Yes!_

_**Of course.**_

_I'm living proof._

Well it's nice to know how much my colleagues trust me.

_I'd trust you with my life, just not my possessions._

_That seems a bit backwards, Minerva._

_Would you trust Pomona with anything of yours?_

_Heavens, no! It'd doubtless come back with some sort of ridiculous spell on it that might do something like… I don't know, cough ink up all over the essays I'm attempting to grade?_

That was ONE time, Filius!

_One time was enough!_

_I believe revenge is in order, don't you, Filius?_

_Very much._

_Then it's settled. Pomona Sprout, you'd better watch your back!_

Good luck getting to me! I've got venomous tentacula up in my room at the moment.

_**If that were true, Pomona, they would need only to come in with something else for the tentacula to eat. Perhaps a couple of first years? A few of them are rather chubby, perfect for feeding man-eating plants.**_

Severus Snape, you're cruel!

_He is thinking along the right track, however. I think I'd grab a turkey from the kitchen instead of a first year, though. Killing a student has too many repercussions to be worth it._

I'm tired of this 'cooperating to annoy Pomona as much as possible' nonsense. I'm going to bed. But first, let me leave you with a thought, Minerva.

_And that thought is?_

You'll have to deal with Severus' smug smirks over beating you in the House Cup for at least one more year because you lost your temper with your own house. Ha ha! Good night!

_Pomona Sprout, your end is near._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I'm a loser for failing to update for however long. Apologies, had a wedding to go to. :)

Review!


	9. Chapter 9

_**NINE – The Forbidden Forest**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Fltiwick_

_**Snape**_

**Quirrell**

* * *

><p><em>Well, that settles it. There is definitely SOMETHING new in that forest!<em>

Who would kill a unicorn? It just doesn't make sense!

_Not just killing! Potter's said that whatever is out there is drinking its blood!_

_What? No, that can't be! _

_But it is._

Do you remember what I told you at the beginning of the year, when I asked you all to assist in protecting the Stone?

_Well, of course, but – _

Then you can't possibly have any more questions.

_NO! That can't be right, because if it was – No! It's not right. He can't be coming back! He can't be on the grounds somewhere. That's just plain ridiculous! We'd know, wouldn't we?_

**I would hope so. How would You-Know-Who possibly get past all the enchantments?**

_**I think it unlikely that the unicorn murderer is the Dark Lord.**_

Who is it then, Severus? Even werewolves can't catch unicorns! A student surely couldn't, and if they had any sort of brains in them, wouldn't. There is only one possible reason for drinking a unicorn's blood.

_**The Dark Lord does not have a body with which to drink a unicorn's blood.**_

I can't see any other explanation, Severus! We've known right from the beginning that if You-Know-Who were somehow still alive, he'd come back to get the last Potter, and we've known that the Stone is his best chance at getting any sort of power back. The unicorn blood would hold him over until he could figure out how to get to the Stone.

_**If what you say is true, how would he know where to find the Stone? I insist you reconsider the point I brought up when the troll was let in. Someone inside this school is attempting to destroy it!**_

**That's a bit overkill, wouldn't you say, Severus?**

_**Is it, Quirrell? There are only seven of us within the boundaries of Hogwarts that know what hides here, ergo there are only seven options of who is betraying us all.**_

I, for one, have complete confidence in each and every one of you to act in the best way you see fit. I'm sure none of you would willingly cause Hogwarts harm.

_I'd die first._

If I ever bring Hogwarts any sort of harm, I demand you make me eat my hat.

_That would be thoroughly disgusting, Pomona. I'd love to see it through!_

_**And then deal with Pomfrey's wrath? I think not.**_

_What's Poppy got to do with it?_

_Do YOU know where that hat's been and what all has gotten on it, Filius? Pomona would be throwing up for weeks._

_There's a point. I'd still see it through, though, if only for revenge on all the awful pranks she's pulled on me._

They haven't been SO bad, I've done worse. Haven't I, Minerva?

_Don't get me started._

_You can't act as though you've been a perfect little angel, Minerva!_

_Did I say I was? I was merely agreeing with Pomona on the fact that she's done much worse than what you've gone through, and I have more than enough evidence to back up the claim._

_Let me ask this: who received more detentions in school, you or Pomona?_

Minerva did.

_I'm perfectly capable of answering for myself, Albus, thank you._

You would have lied and you know it.

_So if you had more detentions Minerva, then one could logically assume that you caused more trouble, and therefore pulled more pranks._

Or that she just got caught more.

_Heavens, no. I only got into a third of the amount of trouble I should have. We're not discussing that, though._

_**Please do discuss, I'm interested.**_

_No._

I'll discuss it, then!

_Pomona, look behind you._

What? Merlin's beard! Get out of my office!

_If I'm not mistaken, Minerva's keeping Pomona from discussing._

_**Undoubtedly. It's a good thing it's well past curfew of some student might have been hit by whatever spell just came out of Pomona's office.**_

_Haven't you warned them about dueling, Dumbledore?_

Evidently, the request I made to them had no impact. We can only hope that no students are up out of bed tonight.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Stop it with your games, Quirrell.<strong>_

**Whatever could you mean, Severus?**

_**You know full well what I mean! We both know what you're doing. I know it is unwise for you to continue, but that idea seems to have trouble getting through that turban of yours and to your brain.**_

**I – **

_**Stop fooling around with my colleagues, Quirrell. It will get you nowhere but trouble. And whatever you do, if you know what's good for you, stay away from that Stone!**_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Is anyone else really ridiculously excited for Deathly Hallows part II? I'm really ridiculously excited. Lik, I'm pretty sure I'm going to pee my pants waiting in line to get into the theater. ...That's all. I just really needed to share that excitement with someone. :)

I wuuuuv me some reviews!


	10. Chapter 10

_**TEN– Through the Trapdoor, The Man with Two Faces**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Fltiwick_

_**Snape**_

**Quirrell**

* * *

><p><em>Potter, Weasley, and Granger know about the Stone!<em>

_**You're surprised with all the slinking around they do?**_

_This is serious, Severus, and it puts quite a hole in your theory about one of us letting the troll in OR killing off unicorns. If first years can figure it out, we haven't done our jobs properly at all!_

_Well be quick about getting word to Albus!_

_I've already sent off my owl, but who knows what kind of good that will do? Keep an eye out for the three of them; I don't trust they won't do something stupid._

_**Stupidity is their greatest strength, Minerva!**_

_I'm giving you full permission to breathe down their necks, Severus! Enjoy it. We all need to keep track of where they're going!_

And just where will you be, Minerva?

_Where they'll probably go next, if they know as much as I think they do._

Don't get eaten by that monster. That would not be particularly pleasant to explain.

_I'm not going to go IN, Pomona. …Not unless I hear ferocious snarling, snapping, and chomping._

* * *

><p>To make you happy, Minerva, I haven't seen any of the three of your little darlings you asked us to keep an eye out for.<p>

_That's because I saw them first!_

_What? You mean they were on the third floor?_

_Yes! Well, Potter and Weasley were, I'm not sure where Granger was._

_**She was outside the staffroom with the utterly ridiculous excuse of needing to speak with Filius.**_

_What do they think is going to happen? Do they really think that – _

_**Clearly, Minerva, they think that someone is going to try to get to the Stone, and they think they can stop it.**_

**That's preposterous! They can't possibly think that they'll ward off whoever might be clever enough to get to the Stone in the first place!**

_They don't know what's protecting the Stone, Quinirius! That's one of the things that makes it so dangerous they're hovering around the third floor so much. I don't know how to get past Hagrid's cerberus. They can't possibly, and there's a head for each one of them!_

Calm down, calm down! Albus will be back tomorrow and we'll let him sort this all out.

_Here, here! The only thing us getting excited will do is excite the students, and that will bring about no good whatsoever._

_You're right. I still think I'd better check up on them and make sure they stay in their dormitories tonight, at least._

**I think that's a fantastic idea! Surely they've realized that if there was anyone attempting to get to the Stone, the night Dumbledore was gone would be the perfect opportunity.**

_**It would be, wouldn't it?**_

* * *

><p><em>I can't find them!<em>

What? Can't find who? What are you waking me up for?

_Potter, Weasley, and Granger! They're not in their rooms. I went through the entire castle, and I can't find them!_

Now, now, keep calm! Maybe you just didn't cross paths with them.

_No, no! I had Nick and the Fat Friar helping me, they didn't see them either. Oh, no! They can't possibly have been that stupid! Where are they?_

_Come on, now. All of us will look._

Sure, we will. Then when we find them, you can dock a hundred fifty points from them each and all will be well. Alright, Minerva?

_**Where's Quirrell?**_

_We can't find three students who know about the Stone and you're worried about Quirrell? He's a full grown man, I think he can handle himself!_

_**That's exactly why I want to find him.**_

_NO! NO! NO! The door is OPEN!_

What do you mean? You can't mean that! No one's opened that door!

_It's open! I'm telling you it's open!_

Don't panic just yet! That doesn't mean anything! We'll have one last look around the castle and THEN we'll start to panic.

_**Look for Quirrell, first.**_

_I'll do no such thing! I'm finding my students!_

_**If you want to find them alive you'll help me find Quirrell!**_

_Why, Severus?_

_**Because he's the one that let the damned troll in, and he's the one that was out after unicorns!**_

YOU KNEW AND YOU DIDN'T TELL US?

_**I tried to warn you! You didn't listen, any of you! And now look where it's gotten us!**_

_That doesn't matter now! What matters is that we find them, all of them! Wake everyone else up! Look everywhere! They HAVE to be found! Oh, no! What have we DONE?_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

The plot thickens. :)

Review!


	11. Chapter 11

_**ELEVEN – Through the Trapdoor, The Man with Two Faces**_

McGonagall sprinted through the halls, looking around wildly. She threw open every single secret passageway she knew of, interrogated nearly every painting she knew could be of use. After she had completed her second search of the castle and still failed to find her students, even with the other teachers looking, she sprinted down to the entrance hall. Surely Dumbledore couldn't be much longer.

Dumbledore had still not arrived after ten minutes. McGonagall walked around in tight circles, her hand to her head, threatening to rip her hair out. How had she not seen it? Any of it? Quirrell had been taunting the staff all year, asking questions he should not have been. And Potter, Weasley, and Granger had spent hours upon hours in the library. She should have known that only fifth years and Ravenclaws would spend _that_ much time reading.

Finally the front doors swung open and Dumbledore burst in.

"Albus!" McGonagall said immediately. "We can't find Potter, Weasley, and Granger, and earlier they told me they knew about the Stone!"

"Can't find them?" Dumbledore asked urgently.

"And that's not all!" McGonagall said, appearing close to tears. "We can't find Quirrell, either, and Severus seems certain that he's the one that let the troll in!"

"Go tell Poppy that she'll have patients soon and to get ready for them!" Dumbledore demanded, no hint of his usual cheerful persona present.

"Weasley! Granger!" McGonagall shouted, putting a relieved hand to her chest.

Dumbledore quickly wheeled around to see Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger running straight toward him. Ron had blood running down his head and Hermione looked extremely frazzled.

"Professor!" Hermione gasped.

"Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?" Dumbledore did not wait for a reply before dashing off to the third floor.

"Come on, you two," McGonagall said, beckoning her students toward her.

"But Professor! Harry – " Ron began to object.

"Professor Dumbledore is quite capable of getting to Mr. Potter, I assure you!" McGonagall snapped out of worry. "You're coming with me to have Madame Pomfrey look you over!"

Snape strode past. He stopped and looked briefly at Ron and Hermione before turning toward McGonagall.

"Quirrell?" he asked simply.

McGonagall shook her head, and Snape quickly continued on.

"Blimey," said Ron quietly. "We were wrong this whole time! It wasn't Snape!"

"It was _Quirrell!_" Hermione wailed suddenly, pulling her robes up to her eyes and crying into them. "It was him all along!"

"Yes, Miss Granger, I know. Come on, now," McGonagall said, a little more gently.

Hermione did not lower her robes from her face, and so Ron guided her to follow their professor.

"It was him that cursed Harry's broom during the Slytherin match," Hermione continued to moan. "I knocked him over on my way to Snape! Oh, _why_ didn't we see it, Ron?"

"There's no use crying over it, Miss Granger," McGonagall said.

"But what if Quirrell – Oh _no!_" Hermione began a new wave of sobs.

"What on earth were you three thinking?" McGonagall raged suddenly. She, too, very much disliked the idea of what Quirrell might do to Harry.

"Well no one believed us when we said someone was trying to steal the Stone," Ron said. "So we had to stop whoever it was ourselves!"

McGonagall's heart plummeted as she easily recalled how earnestly the three had appealed to her just earlier that day. They had told her, quite explicitly, that the Stone was no longer safe. She might have prevented the whole situation.

The professor opened the door to the hospital wing. Upon seeing Ron and Hermione, Madame Pomfrey immediately began to fuss.

"What's this?" she snapped. "Weasley, what _have_ you done to yourself? Sit down!"

McGonagall quickly closed the door to the hospital wing and bolted down to the third floor. The next fifteen minutes were some of the longest of her life.

Finally, Dumbledore emerged, Harry Potter in his arms. McGonagall laughed uncertainly with relief, and then noticed the boy was not moving at all. Any trace of relief quickly disappeared from her face.

"Albus! He's not – ?"

"Nearly," Dumbledore said.

"Where's Quirrell?" McGonagall asked ferociously as she and Dumbledore quickly wound through the halls up to the hospital wing.

"He's dead," Dumbledore said emotionlessly.

McGonagall nearly ran into a suit of armor. "Dead? How?"

"Voldemort left him to die," Dumbledore said in reply. "That is how."

This time McGonagall really did run into a suit of armor. "You-Know-Who was _here_? I – What?"

"It's a fascinating story, Minerva," Dumbledore said. "I should like to tell it to you at a less terrifying time. I would very much appreciate it if you informed the rest of the staff that the missing students have been found, and that Quirrell is dead. If you would also please send an owl to Nicholas telling him I'd like to speak with him?"

"Right," McGonagall said. Rather unwillingly, she turned and went the opposite way of the headmaster carrying her student to find the rest of her colleagues. She ran into Snape first.

"No sign," he said.

"We've found them, all of them!" McGonagall said happily. "Potter, Weasley, and Granger are up in the hospital wing."

"And Quirrell?" Snape pressed on.

"Dead," McGonagall said.

"How?"

"I don't know. Albus said that You-Know-Who left him to die."

Snape's eyes widened drastically and he hurried off to find Dumbledore without another word.

McGonagall, with Sprout's and Fltiwick's help, successfully found the rest of the staff and all returned to their rooms with the promise of receiving the full story soon. The exhausted Transfiguration professor stopped by the hospital wing to check on her students; Weasley and Granger had already been sent back to their rooms, but Potter was still out, though he was recovering.

Satisfied, McGonagall returned to her own room and collapsed on her bed. She hadn't even gotten up to change when someone knocked on her door. Hoping it to be Madame Pomfrey announcing that Potter had woken up, she sprung off her bed and ripped the door open.

"Albus," she said, trying not to sound disappointed.

"Hagrid's moved Fluffy. We're taking the Stone out of Hogwarts," Dumbledore said.

"A little late for that move, don't you think?" McGonagall said, closing her door and walking with Dumbledore through the halls to retrieve Sprout, Flitwick, and Snape.

"My dear professor, surely you know that the story of the Stone will be all over the school by lunch time tomorrow? It must be moved tonight, before anyone gets any ideas," Dumbledore said.

"I've no problem getting that accursed thing out of here," McGonagall said crisply. "I never wanted here in the first place. It was you that insisted! Why?"

"I had a theory about it being here," Dumbledore explained simply.

"A theory?" McGonagall dully repeated. "We lost a staff member and nearly lost three students because you had a theory? You know I don't usually question you, Albus, but – "

"Quirrell was doomed to die from the time he came to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts," Dumbledore said patiently. "He chose his own fate."

"I'm not so much concerned about Quirrell as I am the students we nearly lost, Albus!"

"They have all survived and will make full recoveries. What's more important is what we have learned from their adventure."

"Which is what?" McGonagall snapped.

"That Voldemort is very much still alive and fighting to return," Dumbledore said calmly, as if he were discussing weather.

"By way of killing Potter, then," McGonagall said. "If that's the case, you threw that poor boy right into You-Know-Who's path by bringing that Stone here."

"We have always known, Minerva, that if Voldemort still somehow clung on to life that he would come back for Mr. Potter. Now that we are certain the threat is real, we can work to make sure it isn't carried out."

"I don't like your theory, Albus! He's only a boy, and he's been through enough as it is!"

"Yes, he has been," Dumbledore agreed. Before McGonagall could interrogate him further, he knocked on the door to Flitwick's room. The tiny old man was in his night things, but was willing enough to throw on his shoes and undo the charms he had set if it meant getting the Stone out of the school.

"Anything to get Hogwarts back to normal," Flitwick said cheerily after Dumbledore apologized for waking him up.

McGonagall frowned and crossed her arms. She had a very bad feeling that things at Hogwarts would not be "normal" for quite some time to come.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Whoo hoo! Finally starting to get into some interesting stuff! I've written half way through Chamber of Secrets. Get excited.

Review! Pwease?


	12. Chapter 12

_**TWELVE – The Man with Two Faces**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p><em>Severus, do you know what I'm about to say?<em>

_**I can only imagine…**_

_GRYFFINDOR WON! That Cup is going to sit in my office all next year, right behind my desk, so you have to look at it every time you come by! Revenge certainly is nasty, isn't it, Severus?_

_**I've already congratulated you, Minerva, so – **_

_Oh, don't pull that! I've politely congratulated you the past six years straight, and you still took every opportunity possible to rub my nose in my House's weak record. _

_Perhaps you should try being the bigger person, Minerva?_

_Stop! Stop, Filius! I'm laughing so hard I can barely breathe!_

I can hardly either! You really think she's not going to take advantage of this? You can't pretend you're disappointed at all, Filius! After all, now Severus doesn't have quite so much reason to smirk at us every time we walk past the point board!

_**I have six years behind me compared to Gryffindor's single win, Pomona. **_

Ah, yes, but now Gryffindor's going to be encouraged to keep up their stride.

_**Which means nothing good for Hufflepuff. Soon you'll detest Gryffindor as much as you have Slytherin.**_

_Oh, now I sincerely doubt that. My Gryffindors certainly won't be rubbing their win in everyone's faces, and I'll stop after I'm satisfied with how much I've upset you. There really is no way for you to win this argument, Severus. Might I recommend curling up in your sock drawer to cry for a few days?_

_**I think I'll return at a time when my colleagues decide to be a bit more mature…**_

_Don't even start, Severus! _

I think he just ended.

_Such a relief, isn't it, that Slytherin didn't get the Cup?_

_I'll admit it is._

You'd better not be a pain about it, Minerva, or so help me…

_I'll only be a pain around Severus. I have to get some amount of revenge, don't you think?_

I'll allow you that, I suppose.

Now that that spat has settled itself, I hope you all have a magnificent summer!

What are your plans, Albus?

Mine? I'm not at all sure yet. Best ask me at the beginning of next year.

Oh, I will.

_I, for one, will thoroughly enjoy my month, at least, of having no paperwork to do! I am going to sit around and do nothing, and it will be fantastic._

Don't fool yourself, Minerva! We all know less than a week will pass before you've lost half your mind and will come back here to find SOMETHING to do.

_Not after this year!_

Okay, Minerva.

Bets, Filius?

_Eleven days, I give it. Twenty galleons._

_You two are awful._

I give it nine days, tops. Match twenty galleons.

_Then it's settled!_

You do have to tell us when you come back here, Minerva.

_I'm not coming back until August!_

Whatever you say, Minerva, dear!

_You, Pomona Sprout, are just determined to be a pain. I will delight in my break from you. Have a happy summer! Good bye!_

Farewell!

_I'll rig a charm to her door after she leaves to make sure that we're informed of when she returns._

There's a good man! Have a good summer, Filius!

_You too, Pomona!_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Short? Yes. Ultimately pointless? Yes. Do I care? No, because you read it anyway. :P

The last movie's freakin' awesome. If you haven't seen it yet, what the heck's wrong with you? It's been out since Friday! Get a move on! Yeesh! ;) If you did see it, feel free to tell me what you thought in a PM. I'm eager to discuss.

Leave me a prettiful review!


	13. Chamber of Secrets

_**THIRTEEN – Dobby's Warning**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Fltiwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Have you heard, Minerva?<strong>_

_Severus writing in the middle of the summer? Has the world turned upside down?_

_**You haven't heard…**_

_Heard what? Did Albus find a new Defense teacher? If he did and hasn't told me I'll get him for it…_

_**No, I was referring to the official warning Potter received last night.**_

_The WHAT?_

_**Official warning. Surely one of your friends from the Ministry's told you by now?**_

_No! I haven't heard! Alastor Moody's about to hear from me though, I assure you! What happened?_

_**He used a Hover Charm.**_

…_Of all the things to get an official warning for, he got one for a Hover Charm? You've got to be joking._

_**No doubt he assumed he'd be let off for it.**_

_He is NOT one to draw attention to himself, Severus, and he doesn't think himself above the rules!_

_**He's certainly done nothing to prove what you say true. Was he not told explicitly not to use magic over the summer? Or did you forget to hand notes out to your house at the end of term?**_

_Well if he did, indeed, perform the charm – _

_**No one else in that house could have possibly.**_

_Then I hope he's punished, but I think there may be more to the story that we don't know._

_**Hopeless, really. **_

_I'm going to go away now._

Hold on a moment! You're not at Hogwarts, are you, Minerva?

_Why must you always pop in when I least want to hear from or to see you, Pomona?_

YOU ARE! I knew you wouldn't tell us!

_It's August now, thank you very much!_

Only just, but I think you've been there for a while. FILIUS! FILIUS FLITWICK!

_He's watching his nieces and nephews. Leave him be._

Oh, no. I need to know when that charm he put on your office was triggered, because he most certainly did not inform me.

_The what?_

_**You're losing your touch, Minerva. Even I was aware that Filius had charmed your door.**_

_I – This is – How dare any of you!_

Oh, hush. I'm sure your sixth sense of detecting trouble will return before the term starts, there's no reason to fret.

How fortunate to find so many of you here! I've an announcement.

_You found a Defense teacher!_

I did.

Go on! Who is it?

If his reputation is accurate, I believe he'll prove to be a very capable teacher.

_At this point I hardly think it matters if the Defense teacher is capable, just so long as we have one every year. Who is it?_

Gilderoy Lockhart.

No! You're joking!

I most certainly am not. Mr. Lockhart, Professor, as we may now call him, has most graciously agreed to take up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

_Merlin's beard! None of the girls will learn anything this year!_

But we have a Defense teacher, and you can't argue he's well qualified.

_No, I can't. _

When's he moving into the castle, Albus?

Three days before start of term, I believe. He's expressed a wish to get to know his colleagues before the students.

_**Oh, goody. **_

Something you'd like to say, Severus?

_**I don't much look forward to all the sappy expressions we'll be seeing on the girls' faces whenever Lockhart opens his mouth. **_

_It won't only be when his mouth's open, Severus, I'm sure. I don't much look forward to it, either, but we'll make due._

Positive thoughts! At least this year will be more restful than last, even with Gilderoy Lockhart roaming the halls.

_Certainly! No blasted Philosopher's Stone to worry about students or dark wizards chasing after. A rather happy idea, don't you think, Albus?_

Oh, I hardly think this year will be restful! A calm year simply is not allowed at Hogwarts. I've come to believe the very walls would cause whatever trouble they could if something else weren't happening.

_I've decided to act as though you've said nothing, and will continue to relax with the idea of a restful year!_

Suit yourself. 

_Enjoy the rest of your holidays, everyone!_

I think I'll come pull you out of your office soon, Minerva. It's simply not healthy how much time you spend in there.

_I haven't been here that long!_

Lies. I'm on my way now.

* * *

><p><strong> Author's Note<strong>

I've been away from you all for far too long. I feel I should introduce myself to you again... but I won't... I'll save that for after a longer abscence. :P

Chamber of Secrets begins! Huzzah! Leave a review and tell me whatcha think.


	14. Chapter 14

Let it be known that anything in **bold **in the non-notebook format is a quote directly from the book. That's all. Read on, my lovelies. Read on.

* * *

><p><strong><em>FOURTEEN - The Whomping Willow<em>**

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

* * *

><p><em>I'm going to kill him. I swear to you I will!<em>

_**Who could you possibly be speaking of, Minerva?**_

_Don't act as though you wouldn't drown him in your cauldron if you got the opportunity!_

I hope you'd be more clever in offing him, Severus. We can't have the body discovered…

_**I don't think I'll deny Minerva the pleasure of wringing his neck.**_

_How very kind of you, Severus. I'd owe you one._

_Come on now, we can't be talking like this once the students arrive._

_Best get it out of our systems now, then!_

**Get what out of our systems, Minerva? The nerves? I find the best way to get rid of that nervous feeling is to – **

_I assure you I am not nervous, Gilderoy. I've been through this a fair few times now, I think I have a general idea of what is going on._

**Naturally, naturally. **

Not long, now. Hagrid's heading out to Hogsmeade, I see him out my window.

_Oh! We have the last Weasley coming this year!_

_**Hard to believe there's an end to that family. **_

**I've heard the Weasleys are delightful people. I'm very excited to meet the children. **

_**You won't have to look long to find them, I assure you. You're bound to see at least one no matter where you turn, unless you're unfortunate enough to see the twins.**_

Do you think those two will be any more subdued next year, since they'll be taking O.W.L.s?

_**One can only hope.**_

**Subdued? **

Misters Fred and George Weasley quite enjoy pranks.

**Delightful! I love a good joke.**

You say that now…

_Well! We best be off to the Great Hall!_

**Oh, are the students arriving?**

_Very shortly._

**Jolly good!**

…

Is he gone?

_I think so._

Merlin's beard! How are we expected to tolerate an entire year of him?

_I was hoping you'd have an idea._

Certainly not! I'm at my wit's end already! Filius?

_Would you honestly listen if I gave you any advice?_

Good point. I'll be down after I rip up a few pillows.

Two students failed to get on the Express this morning. Would you be so kind as to wait for their arrival, Severus?

_Who managed to miss the Express?_

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

_WHAT?_

_**Oh my, what a disaster indeed. **_

_But – but the rest of the Weasleys got on the train alright, didn't they? Potter spent half the summer with them, he must have gone to King's Cross with them! Why didn't they get on the train?_

_**I'm sure they'll have some fabulous excuse ready, Minerva.**_

_I suppose Molly's bringing them?_

I don't think so. I believe you can be looking for a Muggle car, Severus.

_MUGGLE CAR? What's this madness?_

If I'm not mistaken, Arthur Weasley bought a Ford Angelina a while ago. The "Evening Prophet" has an article on one of those flying over England, leaving a trail of sightings on the way up to Hogwarts. 

_**No doubt Potter thought it'd be a good idea to try to arrive in style.**_

_Gilderoy may not be the only person I go to Azkaban for…_

* * *

><p>McGonagall watched Ginny Weasley, the last of the first years to be sorted, sit down at the Gryffindor table. She was, of course, not at all surprised. She turned eagerly back toward the staff table, but Snape had still not returned. Feeling rather grumpy and nervous that something had gone wrong with the car Potter and Weasley had stolen off with, she took her seat on Dumbledore's right.<p>

Almost as soon as McGonagall had sat down, however, Snape entered the Great Hall. He did not make his way to the staff table, merely looked at her. She understood and walked with dignity out of the Great Hall before beginning to hurry in a rather _not_ dignified fashion through the halls with Snape.

"Well?" she asked eagerly.

"They came by car," Snape said. "They crashed the thing into the Whomping Willow."

"Oh, Pomona's going to be so pleased to hear," McGonagall said darkly.

"I took the liberty of reading the article Dumbledore mentioned. They were spotted by no fewer than six Muggles."

McGonagall groaned. "Insensible boys!"

"I believe we'll be far better without them," Snape said, almost sounding happy.

McGonagall glared ferociously at Snape. "They will stay here, Severus! Much though you detest them, students have done worse and remained at Hogwarts!"

"We'll see what Dumbledore says when he comes down…"

McGonagall felt her lips tighten even more.

Snape flung open his office door and McGonagall strode in and looked down at Potter and Weasley, both pale and terrified. She lit a fire, had the two sit, and demanded the story, which Weasley gave quickly.

Dumbledore arrived just before McGonagall got into lecturing her students. Potter recounted the story for the headmaster, who was quite disappointed. McGonagall was pleased to see his disappointment in them made Potter and Weasley cower just that much more.

"**We'll go and get our stuff,"** Weasley said dejectedly.

In the short conversation following, McGonagall found it rather hard not to be amused by or smug about Snape's desperate attempts to get Dumbledore to expel her students. All Snape could do after Dumbledore had spoken was glower once more at the second years and then follow the headmaster out.

McGonagall had difficulty maintaining her stern demeanor after Potter managed to reason his way out of losing Gryffindor points. She was, in fact, sorely tempted to let them back up into the Great Hall as a reward for such a feat, but knew it must not be allowed. The other students would surely lose their heads and all think it was a bright idea to find alternate ways of travelling to Hogwarts the following year.

McGonagall waved her wand, Summoning a meal for the two students. She told them firmly to return to their room after they had finished eating, then went up to rejoin the start of term feast. She was rather pleased to find that she would be sitting next to Snape.

"Severus," she said smartly.

"They should be out of here," Snape growled.

"Don't get me started on wrong calls I think you've made, Severus," McGonagall said rather airily. "Would you mind passing me a piece of chicken?"

"I assure you, had it been one of my students – " Snape began sourly as he threw a piece of chicken onto McGonagall's plate for her.

"You would hide any evidence and deny doing so," McGonagall cut Snape off. "I know you too well for you to be able to make that little sob story work. The whole incident will be forgotten within a few days and things will carry on as they usually do, much though you may not like it."

Snape sighed, then turned to Professor Burbage on his other side to talk to her instead. McGonagall smirked, but quickly remembered she was in the Great Hall and fixed her face to look as the students expected it to be.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Oh, Sour-Grape Snape. :) Bonus points to you if you get that reference...

Troubles with the infamous Lockhart begin... You can't tell, but I'm smirking at the moment.

You desire greatly to leave a review. I know you do. ;)


	15. Chapter 15

_**FIFTEEN – Gilderoy Lockhart**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Fltiwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

* * *

><p>Oh, Molly Weasley…<p>

_Poor Mr. Weasley! An inquiry at work! They really can't afford him to lose his job, can they? _

_**That's a rather rhetorical question, Filius.**_

_It's perfectly alright for you to admit you enjoyed seeing Potter and Weasley punished further, Severus._

Let's not lie… I feel kind of sorry for the Weasley children if that's their mother when she's angry.

_**You would think the twins would be tamed.**_

_Oh, they cower if you mention her at all. I do believe she's the only person on the planet that can control them completely. _

_Of course. Everyone fears their mother's wrath. It's just basic instinct. _

**Discussing that Howler from this morning?**

_Astounding assumption, Gilderoy._

**I think that was a rather harsh move on Mrs. Weasley's part. After all – **

I believe Mrs. Weasley, with seven children, has figured out what does and does not work in terms of parenting and would not require any comment on her ways of discipline from you, Gilderoy.

…

**I've been meaning to ask, Minerva, if I might have Harry for his detention?**

…_Why?_

**I admit I must blame myself for his rash behavior.**

_What the devil are you talking about?_

**At Flourish and Blott's! Oh, surely you saw the article in "The Prophet"! I brought him into the limelight and he simply couldn't get enough.**

_**Perhaps you speak a little sense, Lockhart.**_

_Shut up, Severus!_

_Potter's got limelight enough without your help, Gilderoy. I can tell you with absolute certainty that whatever may have appeared in "The Prophet" did not fuel Potter's desire to – _

**No need to excuse the boy, Minerva! I understand perfectly. I look forward to speaking with him in detention about it. I'll set him straight, I assure you.**

_I – but – What just happened?_

Gilderoy Lockhart just happened, the little –

_**What's he done to upset you so, Pomona?**_

He had the nerve to give me – ME! - advice on fixing the Whomping Willow! I've no problem stepping down to someone more capable than me in Herbology, but I'm absolutely certain that he's far less able than I am! He's just prancing around like he's so high and mighty! I can't take it!

_You've got to learn to cope. He's here for the year, at least._

With any luck this will not be the year that we manage to keep a Defense teacher! Do you know that he pulled Potter away from my class to talk to him in private, Minerva?

_No! Merlin's beard, if anyone can turn the boy it'll be Lockhart!_

_**That boy doesn't – **_

_Shut UP, Severus! How do I get it through Lockhart's head that he can't have Potter for detention?_

Perhaps it is best that Gilderoy have Mr. Potter for detention.

…_Are you out of your mind?_

I'm sure many would say that I am. However, I feel I'm thinking perfectly well. 

_I don't! What's your reasoning for this?_

It can't do any harm.

_If it doesn't cause Potter to lose his head, it'll make Gilderoy's larger! There is no winning in this situation._

…

_Albus?_

_Albus!_

_You infuriating old man! I hate it when you do this!_

Yelling won't help. I'm sure he's grown deaf to you by now.

_Why can't we just have a normal Defense teacher that doesn't have a dark wizard sticking out of the back of their head and that knows what they're talking about?_

We ran out of those. All we've got left are the crazies.

_Hang the crazies! We'll do without the subject! If I've sworn to kill someone this early on in the year…_

_**It simply wouldn't be a year at Hogwarts without at least one person's life being threatened by Minerva McGonagall. We're just reaching quotas early this year.**_

Which can only mean insanity by the time June finally rolls around. Fantastic!

_On the bright side – _

_Don't, Filius. Just don't._

* * *

><p><em>He's mad! A complete lunatic!<em>

_**Who's done what now?**_

_Lockhart let a full cage of Cornish pixies out on the second years in class._

_**Is that why one of those damned things was in my office? It ruined nearly one hundred galleons' worth of ingredients.**_

I found one trying to get into green house four just a few minutes ago. That was _him_? What'd he do? Let them out and expect the second years to round them back up?

_That's exactly what he did._

Blithering idiot!

_I hardly think it'll do any good, but you ought to talk to him, Dumbledore._

I already have.

…_Really?_

He came up to my office after the pixies got out to let me know. He assured me he left them in capable hands, however, if that makes you feel any better.

_It does not! There were no capable hands in that classroom! He lost his wand to one of those things!_

I'm beginning to think he's a marvelous fraud.

_**If he lost his wand to a pixie, of all things, he must be. I'm sure he'll just say he's having an off day, however.**_

_An off day! Please._

I've heard from some of my fourth years he gave a quiz over his books to see how well anyone read them. Do you know what the questions were?

_What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?_

Exactly!

_I was joking!_

I wasn't!

_**There goes any hope of any student learning anything in that class this year, regardless of gender.**_

_If I hear about "Witch Weekly's" Most-Charming-Smile Award one more time – _

"**Witch Weekly's" Most-Charming-Smile Award? I've won that five times now, you know.**

_Yes, Gilderoy. I've heard. _

If you'll pardon me, I have to go.

**Go do what, Pomona? Class is over.**

I have to throw up, Gilderoy. That's what I have to do.

**I hope it's not a serious illness. Perhaps I should go and fetch Madame Pomfrey for you?**

NO! Heaven's no. We don't want anyone getting hurt now. Just stay where you are.

_**Are we certain we don't want anyone getting hurt?**_

**Severus! Such a joker!**

_I can't take this. I can't do it. I'm off._

**I wonder what's gotten into everyone?**

_It's just the beginning of the year, Gilderoy. Everyone's a little worn out. _

**Well, I can't say I'm any different! Best be off to bed to be ready for another full day of classes tomorrow, eh?**

_A wonderful idea. _

**Good night, then!**

_Good night._

_**He's gone. It's safe to come back now, Minerva, Pomona.**_

_WHY did we give him a Notebook? Why? _

There's just no escaping him! I swear he's there every time I turn around!

_Merlin help him if he ever does find Poppy and try to give HER advice…_

I'm all for egging him on to do so.

_**That might just be another book for him. I can see if now: School Nurse Setback. I don't think I'd be able to stand it.**_

You have a most valid point, Severus.

_Then we are at an impasse once again._

We'll find a way to get rid of him yet!

If you drive him out, Pomona, I will task you with finding his replacement.

_I'll start looking now if you promise to have him out by semester!_

Now that would be rather rude… I think you'll have to tough the year out, at least.

Not if I can help it!

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

News worthy of the "Fantastic" column of the _Daily Prophet_, I've written all of Chamber of Secrets now! SCORE! :) I'm so excited to share it with you all!

I heart your reviews! For cereal, I do. Leave one?


	16. Chapter 16

_**SIXTEEN – Mudbloods and Murmurs**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

* * *

><p><em>Severus…<em>

_**You've called?**_

_What are you doing kicking my Quidditch team off the field?_

_**Slytherin has a new Seeker, Minerva. He needs to be trained up.**_

_There's plenty of time for that when Wood hasn't booked the field! The poor boy spent half his summer working up a new program! _

_**Then he can surely manage with one less practice. **_

_And Draco Malfoy's your new Seeker? How coincidental of an event is that, considering his father's donation to the Slytherin team?_

_**I cannot account for Flint's actions as Captain nor – **_

_Don't give me that! Lucius Malfoy would have had to get those brooms here through you, Flint would have had to run the final line up by you before he announced it, and you had NO reason to steal the pitch from Gryffindor!_

_**I did not steal – **_

_You sent your team out with a note that forced mine off! Mark my words, Severus, if this happens again you will sincerely regret it._

**Quarrelling amongst colleagues? This just won't do.**

_Gilderoy, I am - _

Troll! There's a troll in the dungeons!

**A troll? Merlin's beard!**

Oh, Gilderoy! You're quite the expert with trolls! Perhaps you'd be kind enough to go take care of it quickly, before any students find it?

…

**Certainly! I'll just… get right on that!**

…_Did you just quote Quirrell, Pomona?_

Not exactly. And you're welcome for getting rid of Lockhart, by the way!

_**Unfortunately, he'll only be back once he discovers there is no troll.**_

If we're lucky, there is one and it'll take his head off.

_Even if there was another troll, I don't think it'd be taking Lockhart's head off anytime soon._

Why's that? I can hope, can't I?

_Gilderoy Lockhart is currently meandering around the seventh floor._

Well… that settles it. He's a fraud.

_**I thought this had already been established.**_

_Let's give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he's just prepping himself to go fight a troll._

You're joking, right?

_Of course I'm joking, Pomona! Merlin's beard…_

Good, because I thought I had died or fallen into a parallel universe.

Can we get rid of him NOW, Albus?

I hardly think a trick of yours is grounds for sacking someone, Pomona.

He's a FRAUD, Dumbledore! None of the students have learned anything of value from him and he's driving the rest of us insane!

_Before you answer, Albus, I want to guess your reply: "It would be quite rude and rather imprudent for me to ask Gilderoy Lockhart to leave so abruptly in the middle or term."_

I would also have to find someone to take up his post.

Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.

* * *

><p><strong>Minerva, is Harry Potter quite alright?<strong>

…_What have you done, Gilderoy?_

**Nothing! I've merely just sent the boy back from detention and, well…**

_What do you think is wrong with the boy?_

**Well we were having a perfectly pleasant conversation over one of my books when he seemed to hear... something.**

_Would you care to elaborate?_

**It's probably nothing, in all honesty. It was quite late and he did look rather tired. I thought I'd merely check his health over with you before rushing into any conclusions.**

_As far as I'm aware Potter is of a perfectly sound mental state…_

**Ah! Then I'm sure he was simply tuckered out from all the hard work. Nothing to be bothered by. I'm off to bed. Good night!**

_Yes, please, Gilderoy, leave me with hardly any details of what could be quite a problem. Really, I don't mind at all!_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Short? Yes. Next chapter will make up for that. :)

Review!


	17. Chapter 17

_**SEVENTEEN – The Deathday Party, The Writing on the Wall**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

* * *

><p>Oh…. Are we in trouble if that writing on the wall is true…<p>

_There's no way around it! It must be true! This is just how things started last time… Petrifying. _

But a cat? Petrifying a cat would be much less advanced than petrifying a human. Perhaps it's some student's sick idea of a joke? Perhaps a sixth or seventh year could pull off the required magic.

That's an oddly appealing suggestion, Pomona, but I think it unlikely. Petrifying anything takes knowledge far beyond what's taught at Hogwarts.

But that doesn't mean someone didn't learn it OUTSIDE of Hogwarts, over the summer or something.

I think it unlikely.

_If the Chamber really has been open again, what are we going to do? What did the staff do last time, Albus?_

There's not an awful lot we can do, much as you'd like to hear differently. 

_But the students! There must be SOMETHING!_

_**I was under the impression that there was no such thing as the Chamber of Secrets.**_

_You weren't here fifty years ago, Severus! So many Petrified… one student even died!_

_**Hagrid was blamed, if I've been told correctly.**_

_Hagrid? Please! Anyone with a drop of sense knows it wasn't him! Albus, there must be something we can do to end this before it goes ANY further…_

We will search the castle.

_That's been done a hundred times before!_

What more can we do, Minerva? We've no idea who the culprit is, nor how they Petrified Mrs. Norris.

_**If I may, the only students missing from the feast – **_

_How DARE you, Severus? After all three of them risked their lives, Potter nearly succeeding in giving his, to protect Hogwarts, you think one of them would open up the Chamber of Secrets and let its monster loose? Preposterous!_

_Seeing as, according to legend, only the Heir of Slytherin can open the Chamber, Severus, it's logical that it's your House we should be watching more closely._

_**Yes, but seeing as none of my students were missing…**_

_We've no idea how long Norris was hanging there before she was found! A Slytherin might have done her in and then gone down to the Great Hall!_

_Now, now, there's not much sense in us turning on each other to figure out who the culprit is. We must work together if we're to solve this mystery._

It's difficult to work together when you have almost nothing to work with, yet everything to fear.

_Yes, but we can manage. We'll only weaken ourselves by arguing._

_Well there is one thing we can attempt to do…_

Do tell!

"_Enemies of the Heir" proved to be Muggle-borns last time – _

So it makes sense to keep a closer watch on Muggle-borns now. It's not much…

_But it is a start, and it is a preventative measure._

_Preventative measures… Albus, we've got to discuss a few rule changes._

As I am well aware. I've scheduled a meeting with the board of governors for tonight. We'll discuss when I return. In the mean time, the castle must be searched. 

_Of course!_

No one goes anywhere alone. Pairs, if you please.

_Pomona and I can take the upper levels?_

_Sure, leave me with Severus._

It's more likely that a hidden chamber would be somewhere on the ground floor or below. Severus is more familiar with the dungeons and you the secret passageways running under the school!

_Reason away, Pomona!_

_**Let's think of it this way, Minerva: While we are now stuck searching the castle together, much as both of us may dislike the idea, should we happen to break out into a duel, a certain professor may walk past and be hit by a wayward spell…**_

_Ah… your logic has merit, Severus! Perhaps we should first look at the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom?_

_**Yes, I think we'd best get that out of the way first, as it may end up causing us the most problems.**_

_And if its doors just HAPPEN to get locked irreversibly with its poor professor inside…_

_**We'll be all the better off.**_

Merlin's beard, I like the way you think! Do! Do get that blasted man out from under our feet! He'll be nothing but trouble if the Chamber really is open again.

_With any luck he'll run into the monster and it'll rid us of him. _

_Appealing as that may sound, if the monster within the Chamber really does only go after Muggle-borns, Lockhart has nothing to fear. The last Muggle in his family is three generations back._

Well don't let HIM know he's safe. If he thinks he's threatened he may keep to his office.

_Come on, now. We best begin searching._

* * *

><p>"Really, Severus, it's nothing against you," McGonagall said as she and Snape pulled down every portrait in the hall and checked behind them with various spells, "it just makes sense that the Heir of Slytherin would be someone from your house!"<p>

"It is possible that this whole ordeal with Mrs. Norris is a ruse, Minerva," Snape drawled. "In all of Hogwarts' history the Chamber has never been found, and only claimed to have been opened once. I think it much more likely we have an issue similar to last year."

"What, you think we have someone else with You-Know-Who sticking out of the back of their heads?" McGonagall snorted as she tapped the wall with her wand behind a portrait of two old warlocks.

"I think we may have another traitor in our midst," Snape said.

"You're just paranoid, Snape!"

"_I'm_ paranoid?" Snape asked, a sneer on his face. "You're the one that believes there's a chamber that has never been found that houses a monster that no one has ever seen that hunts Muggle-borns and is commanded by someone that would only have a drop or two of Salazar Slytherin's blood, if they existed at all!"

"I was here the last time the Chamber was open!" McGonagall snapped. "You try having three of your friends being among the Petrified and having a classmate die and tell me you don't believe in the Chamber of Secrets!"

"Chamber of Secrets?" said a cheery voice that made both McGonagall and Snape flinch. "On about this nonsense, are we?"

"Good evening, Gilderoy," McGonagall said stiffly.

"What, might I ask, are you doing out so late, Lockhart?" Snape asked.

"Merely having a go around," Lockhart said airily. "Thought I might see if anyone was sneaking around trying to find the Chamber or its monster. A poor student wouldn't ever be able to handle such a feat on their own, no, no!"

"So you were planning to assist any student wandering around past curfew?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Merlin's beard, no!" Lockhart said with a laugh. He looked around at all the portraits leaned against the wall. "What's going on here?"

"We're searching for the Chamber," McGonagall said dully. "Perhaps you'd like to help?"

Snape turned his head so quickly to glare at McGonagall his neck popped.

Fear flashed through Lockhart's eyes, but he quickly covered it up with his most charming smile. "Oh, no, no, no!" he said quickly. "I won't intrude, you've clearly got a rhythm going here – "

"Don't be ridiculous, Gilderoy!" McGonagall snapped. "The more help we have, the better, and the more likely we are to find the Chamber."

Snape caught on to McGonagall's plan. "Once we find the Chamber we will have to destroy the monster, of course."

"But that'll be no skin off your back, now will it, Gilderoy?" McGonagall asked. "You're quite the master at fighting off vicious and blood thirsty beasts, are you not?" She spoke so lightly and casually a student passing by might have fainted at hearing the unusual tones.

"Yes, I am, but certainly – "

"The more in the hunting party the better," Snape continued on.

"Indeed!" McGonagall said. "What if Severus were to be Petrified? I'm not sure I'd be able to take the monster on by myself. It's proven itself to be very powerful, you know."

"Why don't I go look up on the third floor?" Lockhart said loudly before McGonagall or Snape cold continue.

"What a marvelous idea, Gilderoy," McGonagall said. "Be sure to let us know if you find anything!" she called after him as he scurried away.

"Fraud," Snape said dully.

"Coward," McGonagall spat. "His office is on the third floor. He'll just go to bed!"

"As long as he's anywhere but here," Snape said as he began waving his wand at the wall once more.

McGonagall sighed as she turned back to the cold, stone wall. "I really do hope this doesn't go as far as it did last time."

"I doubt it is anything more than an isolated incident," Snape said.

After a short while longer of searching, the pair came upon the hallway where Mrs. Norris had been found. The red message announcing the Chamber had been opened blared at the two professors standing beneath it.

"I'll check the men's, you check women's," Snape said, parting from his partner.

"Nonsense!" McGonagall snapped. "Dumbledore's told us to stick together, or do you have an issue entering a women's bathroom?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's not the bathroom I have an issue with," Snape said, glaring at the door.

"Myrtle?" McGonagall asked with a bit of a laugh.

"She's not exactly - "

"Well you wait outside the door, Severus, and if you hear any absurdly loud sobbing – "

Snape ripped open the door to the girls' bathroom and held it for McGonagall, who walked through with a smirk on her face. "Myrtle?" she called.

Moaning Myrtle popped her head out from her stall. "Well if it isn't Minerva McG – What's he doing here?" she asked, pointing a finger at Snape as he closed the door.

"Certainly you've heard about Mrs. Norris?" McGonagall asked.

Myrtle smile cruelly. "Oh, yes. Serves that cat well, I think."

McGonagall's lips tightened slightly. "We're just checking for the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, and then we'll leave you alone."

"Now that I'm dead you'll leave me alone," Myrtle snorted. "Never when I was alive. Stuck up for all your friends, you did, but never for Myrtle!"

"Myrtle, I – " McGonagall began exasperatedly before Myrtle butted in.

"You what?" Myrtle snapped, ghostly tears beginning to run down her ghostly face. "You _enjoyed_ watching them all make fun of me? Everyone always raved about Minerva McGonagall! I was _twice_ as talented as you!"

"No doubt many were twice as talented as her," Snape drawled, an extremely smug smirk on his face, clearly enjoying the discomfort of his colleague. "You see where having good connections gets you."

"Yes!" Myrtle said, smiling slightly at Snape. "You understand!" She turned her wrath back on McGonagall. "_You _never would! Smart Minerva! Pretty Minerva! Popular Minerva! Yes, you were nice to everyone, even civil with the _Slytherins_, but you just couldn't stand a conversation with me, now could you?"

"You never talked to me, Myrtle!" McGonagall said hotly, her face beginning to turn red.

"You never approached me unless it was to pull a prank on me, either!" Myrtle accused.

"I never once – "

"I know it was you that jinxed my glasses!" Myrtle shrieked. "I heard Rolanda Hooch laughing about it at lunch!"

"That's not nice or fair at all, Minerva," Snape sneered at his colleague. "After all the lectures you've given me…"

"Yes, well, I was a teenage girl, wasn't I?" McGonagall snapped at Snape. She turned back toward Myrtle. "That was fifty one years ago, Myrtle, and if I'm not mistaken, I've apologized to you for it! Isn't it about time you let it go?"

"Let it go?" Myrtle dully echoed. Her cheeks flushed pearly white with anger. "_Let it go?_" she screamed again.

"By all means, hold onto it," Snape suggested. "If you let it go you would merely be condoning the behavior."

McGonagall huffed in frustration and looked at Myrtle once more as the ghost smiled at Snape with a sappy expression on her face. "Have you noticed anything unusual lately, Myrtle?"

"If I had I wouldn't tell _you_," Myrtle snapped.

"Tell Severus then, if you like him so much," McGonagall snarled back.

Myrtle blushed and, wailing, disappeared into the toilet she so frequently inhabited.

"Who ever knew?" Snape asked with cruel amusement. "Minerva McGonagall, a bully at school."

"I was _not_ a bully, Snape," McGonagall said crisply, and began aggressively attacking the walls with her wand.

"You certainly sent Myrtle into a flurry."

"Everything sends Myrtle into a flurry," McGonagall retorted. "A boy once asked her if she could read the last line on the board and she ran out of the classroom crying because she believed him to be insulting her intelligence."

"Jinxing her glasses was quite low of you," Snape said with a sly smile.

"Perhaps you'd like me to kill you so you can haunt this bathroom with her, Severus?" McGonagall snapped. "She seemed so taken with you, after all, and you've been doing nothing but defending her!"

"Very mature, Minerva," Snape drawled, but the smug expression died away from his face.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

How can you have a story about the Chamber of Secrets without Myrtle?

Well? Did I make up for how short the last chapter was? Didja like this one? Wanna tell me in a review? =D


	18. Chapter 18

_**EIGHTEEN- The Writing on the Wall**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

* * *

><p><em>I hate my Hooooouuuusssseeee!<em>

…Snape, are you using Polyjuice?

_**No, I'm not. **_

Good, because I was wondering how you'd still be alive after trying to take some of Minerva's hair.

_**It wouldn't be that difficult… she sheds, if you haven't noticed.**_

Damn cats.

This poses a serious problem. I can't have the Head of Gryffindor hating Gryffindor. Would you care to explain the problem you're having, Minerva?

_Weasley just came and told me – _

_**Which Weasley? There are dozens of them lying around!**_

Exaggeration…

_**Hardly.**_

_Percy Weasley! He came and told me that he found Potter, Weasley, and Granger snooping around where Norris was found._

_**You're surprised… why?**_

_I can't do it! I cannot handle them sneaking around trying to figure out what's hidden in the school AGAIN!_

_Perhaps they're just trying to exonerate themselves. Many students are blaming them, after all._

_**Very amusing suggestion, Filius. I think it more likely – **_

_Don't. I'll kill you. I promise you I will._

**I hardly think this is a time to be making empty threats on each other's lives.**

_My threat is empty in no way, shape, or form. Is it, Severus?_

_**I don't believe so. Perhaps I ought to brush up on my dueling skills. **_

_If you need to brush up, you might as well simply give up now, because I'll just kick your a – _

**Dueling!**

…Yes. I'm glad you know what dueling is, Gilderoy.

**Well students are fearful about what might be lurking about, am I correct?**

Oh, God! He may actually be having an intelligent thought…

**What if I formed a dueling club? Perhaps the students might feel a bit safer with some instruction on how to defend themselves!**

_**Unless I'm mistaken, it's already your job to teach students how to defend themselves in your class, Lockhart.**_

**Yes, well, a little extra help never hurt anyone, did it? I'm sure with a bit of extra guidance from me, the students' fear will be banished in no time!**

…

**What say you, Dumbledore?**

I think teaching students to duel would be quite a drastic measure, Gilderoy. 

_Not only would it be a drastic measure, it'd be a nightmare! Duels all over the hallways, at lunch, in the classrooms…_

Merlin's beard! Say no!

I shall consider it, Gilderoy, but I won't give a firm answer now.

_**If a club WERE to form, might I suggest Filius head it?**_

Brilliant!

_Oh, come now, I'm sure – _

_You, Filius, are a dueling champion! Who better suited?_

_That was a long time ago._

Hardly!

**I must persist in my offer to lead the club.**

_**Flashing a smile at your opponent rarely does any good, Lockhart. Filius has proven his skill time and time again – **_

**Oh, Severus! Joking again, are we? I haven't gotten rid of anything by SMILING at it… though it did nearly work on the hag.**

…_**You've actually tried this method?**_

_I've got an idea…_

Those words coming from you are never a good thing, Minerva.

_Oh, but this is such a wonderful idea!_

_You're frightening me. I want nothing to do with this idea of yours._

_Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to lead the club, Gilderoy. You've got so much experience, after all._

**There we are! Minerva sees sense!**

_But if you feel uneasy about such a decision, Severus, perhaps you should ASSIST Gilderoy…_

**A fantastic idea!**

_**Absolutely not.**_

**Come now, Severus! It'll inspire such confidence in the students to see their professors working together. I simply will not take no for an answer!**

_**The club hasn't been established yet, Lockhart, and – **_

**I'll see that it is! Dumbledore can be persuaded, I'm sure! I'll go pay him a visit now, in person!**

_**It may be ME that kills YOU, Minerva.**_

_Whatever reason would you have to do that, Severus?_

_You're not fooling anyone, Minerva. I must say that was very cunning of you. Of course once Gilderoy's got an idea in his head he won't let it go._

You ought to have thought of the idea, Severus!

_**I'll come up with the next one, I promise you!**_

_Revenge never gets anyone anywhere, Severus. It's best you just accept the situation and move on._

Or you could go up to Dumbledore's office and argue that the club NOT be formed…

_Don't give him ideas, Pomona!_

_**Too late. I'll not stay in the same room as that fraudulent little cretin, though. I'll talk to Dumbledore later.**_

By then Gilderoy may have won him over…

_Shut UP, Pomona!_

_**I won't let you win so easily, Minerva. However, should I fail in my mission to sway Dumbledore away from making me "assist" in the dueling club, you may want to check your food carefully before you eat it.**_

_What good will poisoning me do? I'll only be out to make you even more miserable after I recover, AND Poppy will be after you for purposely causing harm. There's really no winning for you here, Severus._

_**Someday, Minerva, you'll come to regret all the pain you put me through.**_

_Will I?_

_**If I have my way.**_

_There's no other way than Minerva's way, in case you haven't noticed, Severus._

Women always have their way. It's just how the world works.

_Don't go raising a challenge, Pomona._

Challenge raised!

_Very well. You'll come to regret it._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

This is an author's note telling you there is no author's note.

Review!


	19. Chapter 19

Incase you've forgotten, anything in **bold** in non-notebook format is a quote directly from the book. Just making sure we're all on the same page! Now, my lovelies, read on.

* * *

><p><em><strong>NINETEEN – The Rogue Bludger<strong>_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

* * *

><p><em>Ready for another Quidditch match, Severus?<em>

Oh, here we go.

**The Quidditch match is today? Fantastic!**

_**I think the question you've asked me is a better one to ask yourself, Minerva.**_

_While Gryffindor may not have Nimbus Two Thousand and ones – _

Purchased by the new Seeker's father. Although, had James still been alive, it's quite possible he might have been able to affo –

_Gryffindor does have better players, and Wood's been training them well. Considering how soundly my team defeated yours last year, Severus, I'm not wholly concerned. _

_Is that why you're biting your nails?_

_I am NOT biting my nails._

_**We'll see who gets to laugh after the game, Minerva.**_

_Ten galleons, Gryffindor._

**Betting? Come now, that's a bit – **

_**Match bet, Slytherin!**_

Someone's not going to be happy with the results…

* * *

><p>"What's going on with that bludger?" McGonagall asked no one in particular shortly after the match had begun. "What's it doing chasing Potter?"<p>

"I don't know," said Sprout. "Severus?"

"I'm not doing anything, Pomona, if that's what you're implying," Snape said tightly.

"Why must something always happen to Potter on the Quidditch field?" McGonagall moaned as Fred and George Weasley began to hover around their Seeker, protecting him from the bludger.

"Well Quirrell's not here to do anything this time," Sprout said, looking around closely at the audience. "Look! Lucius Malfoy! You don't think – ?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," McGonagall said, "but he doesn't have his wand out. And if he did I'd hex him from here."

"Why aren't you sitting with him, Severus?" Sprout asked.

"I was not aware he would be here," Snape said.

Down on the pitch, Wood called a time out.

"Go babysit Lucius, Severus," McGonagall requested. "He's making me nervous."

"I'm quite comfortable here, actually."

"Do it, or if I lose you'll never see any of that bet money!" McGonagall snapped.

Mumbling, Snape rose and left.

The match resumed and McGonagall began to unconsciously grip Sprout's arm.

"Minerva," Sprout said. "Minerva! Let go, I'm going to have bruises!"

"I can't!" McGonagall said. She gave a particularly tight squeeze as Harry flipped upside down on his broom.

Sprout wrenched her arm free. "Look! The boy's fine! He's a fantastic flier! He'll be just fine!"

McGonagall continued to be extremely stiff and snapped at anyone that said anything to her as she watched her student weave crazily around the field in attempts to avoid the bludger chasing him. She had to cover her mouth to prevent herself from yelping as the rogue bludger collided with Harry's elbow. He slid sideways on his broom. That was all McGonagall needed. She jumped out of her seat and began clambering over people to get down to the pitch, but not before witnessing Harry begin to lose altitude at an alarming pace.

She was stopped several times on the way down to the pitch and when she finally arrived, Lockhart was already waving his wand at Harry. She put on a burst of speed, but was too late. Lockhart had done his damage.

"**Ah,"** Lockhart said, looking at his work. **"Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. So, Harry, - "**

McGonagall stopped listening and merely watched as Ron and Hermione helped Harry up off the ground. She saw Harry's arm hang limply at his side and instantly deduced what had happened. Nostrils flaring madly, she turned on Lockhart, but he had already gone.

* * *

><p><em>Gilderoy Lockhart, you IDIOT!<em>

**I'm sorry?**

_Don't you toy with me! You managed to take out every bone in Potter's arm!_

**Yes, well, the bones are no longer broken, at least.**

_THERE AREN'T ANY BONES LEFT TO BE BROKEN!_

**I'm honestly not at all certain what went wrong – **

_You don't know what went wrong? I know what went wrong! I'll tell you what went wrong! You're a – _

Let's stop a moment and gather our thoughts, shall we?

_No! No! I've had it! This is too far, Albus!_

Minerva…

_NO! Slipping away from every possible responsibility is one thing. Letting a load of pixies loose in a classroom is one thing. But deboning a student's arm? One who's smart enough to know to go straight to Madame Pomfrey? That I just will not – _

Enough! Should you wish to discuss this matter further, I'll expect you in my office.

_Expect, because I would definitely like to "discuss this matter further."_

_Severus, you owe me ten galleons, by the way._

_**Damn you and your memory.**_

_Pay up!_

_**Rain check. I've currently no money.**_

_Lies!_

_I don't think now is the time to mess with her, Severus._

_Lockhart! Gilderoy, I'm not finished yelling at you yet!_

**So sorry, Minerva. I have some urgent business to attend to and – **

_Answering fan mail does not count as urgent business._

Perhaps you'd like to come discuss now, Minerva?

_Fine! Better now than before I – _

Yes, best come NOW.

* * *

><p>"I can't do it, Albus," McGonagall said, pacing the length of the headmaster's office. "Too much is too much and he's definitely done too much!"<p>

"I understand that you're upset, Minerva, but – "

"How can you stand this?" McGonagall asked. "Lockhart's obviously not capable of doing anything he's written about! He's a complete and total fraud! Half the student body's worked it out already, and all of the staff have!"

"If what you say is true – "

"Of course it is! You've seen the way he struts around until someone asks him to do something other than sign his name!" McGonagall snapped.

"May I finish a sentence?" Dumbledore asked politely.

McGonagall huffed and slammed herself into the seat across Dumbledore's desk, her fingers drumming impatiently on the chair's arm.

"I understand your frustration over what happened with Harry today, and I do not blame you for blaming Gilderoy, but," he continued a little more loudly as McGonagall made to interrupt, "you can recall how difficult it was to find a teacher for the Defense post this year. Lockhart was willing, he's doing his best, and he's keeping the parents and the board happy."

"But he's driving the rest of us mad!" McGonagall objected. "Who knows what his next step is going to be?"

"I've decided I'll grant his request to start a dueling club in order to keep him a bit busier," Dumbledore said.

"You didn't!"

"I did," Dumbledore confirmed. "I think it will be a good to give the students something else to occupy themselves with, and it may keep them travelling in larger groups, which is all the better for them if the Chamber really has been opened again."

"Based on _his _spell work Poppy will be getting a dozen new patients after every meeting!" McGonagall snarled, her face beginning to turn red.

"He won't be working the club on his own," Dumbledore said. "I'll be asking Severus to keep him in line."

McGonagall spluttered for a moment before rising. "I'm going to go check on Potter," she announced.

"It's nearly two o'clock, Minerva!"

"Good, he'll be fast asleep and won't notice my visit," McGonagall snapped, then left the office quickly.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

What's this? Another chapter? After I just updated yesterday? Wow! Amazing! I deserve a review! ;)


	20. Chapter 20

_**TWENTY – The Rogue Bludger**_

McGonagall muttered to herself as she journeyed to the hospital wing, wishing that, for one year, Hogwarts could just function as a "normal" school. For a few glorious hours at the beginning of term four years ago she had thought that "normal" year had come, but unfortunately for her, that was the year the Weasley twins came. They had kept things topsy turvey enough until Potter had arrived.

Last year with the Stone had been awful. McGonagall had spent quite a few nights with hardly any sleep wondering if some unfortunate student would decide to go see why the third floor corridor was out of boundaries. Her fears had proved to be valid, of course, but that did not give her any comfort in the slightest. As a matter of fact, it made her all the more nervous. She knew Lockhart was not at all what he said he was, but she did have to wonder how he had managed to build the reputation he had, and if it were through harming people…

McGonagall shook her head clear of the thought. Lockhart was an idiot, plain and simple. A first year would have sufficient knowledge to beat him in a duel. There was absolutely no way he could cause harm to any of the students unless one of his "charming" smiles caused a girl to trip down a flight of stairs.

For a moment, McGonagall thought she had made a self-fulfilling prophecy as she lost her footing on the stairs and very nearly slammed her face into the wall. Mumbling darkly and straightening her glasses, the teacher lit her wand and examined the staircase. A bunch of grapes lay half smashed on the floor, an imprint of her foot in the center of them. But what were a bunch of grapes doing on the staircase? Her blood suddenly began to run cold as she looked to the side. Though the face was obscured by a camera, McGonagall instantly knew who it was: Colin Creevey.

Pushed to the defensive and terrified that something was still lurking in the shadows, McGonagall covered Colin's face with the hem of her robes and kept her wand at the ready. She heard a sinister sort of sliding sound and thought someone, or something, might be sliding its feet across the carpet in the hallway at the top of the stairs.

"_Lumos Maxima!_" McGonagall thought, and cast her wand light up to the top of the stairs. Nothing was there, yet the sound of something rolling over the carpet continued, growing louder and louder until stopping briefly before growing quieter once more, as if it had turned down a hall. The teacher called back her wand light, but remained on edge. She needed to get word to someone, anyone, without leaving Colin.

McGonagall braced herself once more for combat as she heard footsteps from behind. She turned quickly and held her wand at eye level.

"Albus!" she exclaimed as the light illuminated the face of the headmaster.

Dumbledore held up a hand to shield his eyes. "Might I ask why you're pointing a wand at me, Minerva?"

McGonagall lowered her wand and stepped aside to reveal Colin. "He's Muggle-born," she said quietly.

Dumbledore furrowed his brow and drew his own wand. "Did you see anything?"

"I might have heard something," McGonagall said hoarsely. "It went in the direction of the dungeons, but I couldn't leave Colin…"

Dumbledore looked around once more. "We best get Mr. Creevey to Poppy." He grabbed Colin's shoulders and McGonagall quickly took the boy's feet. Together, they began to haul him to the hospital wing. "What could he have been doing out so late?" the headmaster asked.

"I – I think he brought grapes with him," McGonagall said. "I stepped on them and slipped, that's how I found him."

"Mr. Creevey was sorted a Gryffindor, yes?"

McGonagall nodded. "He's been driving Potter crazy, following him around everywhere and – " She stopped short. "Oh, Albus! He was probably coming up here to see Potter! That's what the grapes were for!"

"How fortunate you were on your way to see Mr. Potter as well," Dumbledore said.

"What are you doing out here, Albus?"

"I was rather craving some hot chocolate," Dumbledore said simply. He backed into the hospital wing and he and his deputy heaved Colin onto a bed. **"Get Madame Pomfrey,"** he whispered so as not to wake anyone.

McGonagall hurried away. As she did so, Dumbledore looked keenly around and noticed that Harry Potter seemed to be breathing rather irregularly for someone asleep. Rather than raise any more alarm, he decided to ignore the fact as his deputy returned with the nurse.

After a brief conversation between the three staff members, McGonagall and Dumbledore left Pomfrey to care for Colin as she saw fit.

"Should I wake up everyone else?" McGonagall asked as she and Dumbledore wove back through the halls.

"No," Dumbledore replied. "I think we best let them sleep. Things are changing drastically here at Hogwarts, Minerva. Who knows the next time any of us will get a good night's sleep?"

McGonagall stopped as the hallway branched off. "This is where I heard something go earlier," she said, pointing down the dark corridor.

Dumbledore looked down the hall as well. "Whatever it was, it is long gone by now."

"We'd be fools not to check, Albus!" McGonagall argued.

"Very well," Dumbledore conceded. "For your peace of mind, Minerva."

"Thank you," McGonagall said as she drew her wand.

"What did it sound like?" Dumbledore asked as he and his deputy crept on.

"Like something sliding across the carpet," McGonagall answered.

"Sliding?" Dumbledore repeated interestedly.

McGonagall nodded, her face turning a little pale. "It was coming back _towards_ Creevey," she said. "It turned, I don't know why!"

"If the Heir of Slytherin is only after their 'enemies', they would leave _you_ alone," Dumbledore explained. "Mr. Creevey was already incapacitated, perhaps they thought that was good enough."

McGonagall shuddered slightly. "I _hate_ this pureblood nonsense!" she hissed. "There's just no truth to it whatsoever!"

"No, there isn't," Dumbledore agreed. "That is something both you and I are fortunate enough to know. We must remember, however, that ignorance exists."

"This isn't just ignorance, Albus," McGonagall said sharply. "This is far beyond ignorance! It's one thing to call someone a you-know-what, but to then go and try to end them? This is _dangerous_, and we have to end it!"

"Yes, we do," Dumbledore agreed, standing before a fork in the hallway. "However, I think we have reached our limit tonight. We should both be off to bed, or tomorrow will be all the more unpleasant."

"Sleep?" McGonagall asked, allowing her jaw to hang slightly. "Now? You're not serious!"

"Unless you are aware of which direction our unwelcomed night stroller went, Minerva, there is no more we can do," Dumbledore said. "Whoever it is will have gone back to bed by now, and I doubt we'll be able to find them out." He turned around and began to head back up to his office.

McGonagall stayed rooted for a moment longer, debating which way might be more likely for someone to run off through, before realizing she was alone and hurrying to catch up with Dumbledore.

"You can't be taking this lightly, Albus!" she said as she caught up. "Last – "

"I'm not sure what gave you the impression that I am taking this situation lightly, Minerva," Dumbledore said in much colder tones than his deputy was used to hearing.

McGonagall ignored whatever offence Dumbledore might have taken. "Last time the school almost closed down, Albus! We cannot afford to lose Hogwarts! Something _must_ be done."

"And something will be done," Dumbledore replied as he stopped in front of a door. "But for now, sleep, for nothing can be accomplished well without it."

McGonagall realized Dumbledore had stopped outside her private quarters. "_I'm_ not sure what gave _you_ the impression that I am going to be able to sleep," she muttered as she ripped open her door.

"Goodnight, Minerva," Dumbledore said as he walked away.

"There's been nothing _good_ about this night," McGonagall said sourly after she had closed her door.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Did you forget about Colin? You did, didn't you? That's not very nice. You know what? I bet Colin would forgive you if you left a review on this chapter.


	21. Chapter 21

_**TWENTY-ONE – The Dueling Club**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Potter is up to something again, Headmaster.<strong>_

What makes you say that, Severus?

_**He let a firework loose in class today and now I'm missing a few things from my stores.**_

What are those few things?

_**Bicorn horn and boomslang skin.**_

_That would mean making Polyjuice, Severus. You think Potter's capable of that? He's a second year!_

_**I believe Potter perfectly capable of thinking he was capable. **_

_For the last time, Severus, he doesn't – _

I think the accusation you're making is a rather serious one, Severus. Did you actually see Mr. Potter run into your office? Or did he leave with his bag looking bigger?

_**No, but – **_

_Well there you have it!_

_**I did lose track of Granger for a few moments, and she looked a bit… off at the end of class.**_

…_Off? How so?_

_**I'd rather not say.**_

_Come off it! If you don't explain your point I'll think you made it up!_

_**Why would I make that up?**_

_Are you really asking me that question, Severus?_

_**Fine! She looked a bit, shall we say, "top heavy"?**_

_I'm not sure whether I want to laugh or seriously question where your eyes wander. You didn't think to ask her?_

_**I am not a fellow female, Minerva, therefore me asking such a thing would be rather inappropriate, wouldn't it? Will you take me seriously, Dumbledore, or not?**_

Oh, I don't think Mr. Potter and his friends could do any harm. Your stolen stocks are easy enough to replace. I think it best we don't draw attention, don't you?

_Oh, yes. Imagine if the Weasley twins found out all it took was a firework to get into your private stores, Severus!_

_**Charming, Minerva. Imagine if the Weasley twins found out about your stock of – **_

_Enough from you. Don't you have another class in two minutes?_

_**Oddly enough, the twins are in that class. I do hope the aforementioned bit of information doesn't just slip out of my mouth as I'm checking their potions…**_

_If it does, I've got enough on you to retaliate. Keep that in mind._

…

_Does he know you've given Lockhart the go-ahead on the dueling club, Albus?_

Not yet.

_And does he know that you intend on having him supervise?_

Not yet.

_Oh, this is going to be good!_

* * *

><p><strong>I've wonderful news, my coworkers!<strong>

Would anyone like to kill me quickly?

_Only if you'll kill me first._

_That'd be a rather difficult feat. However would you plan to manage it, Pomona?_

**I said I have wonderful news!**

_Yes, yes, Gilderoy. We saw the first time._

**Aren't you curious as to what it is?**

_I have the most marvelous feeling you'll tell us one way or another._

**Dumbledore's given permission to start the dueling club I suggested!**

_**Oh, goody. Let's get dozens of students sent down to Poppy, I'm sure she'll be thrilled. **_

**Nonsense, nonsense! I doubt anyone will have to be sent down to Madame Pomfrey. I am leading the club, after all!**

_**I'm sure you'll do just as well healing these students as you did Potter after the Quidditch match.**_

**On the note of the club, it's come to my attention that I'll require someone else to demonstrate dueling to the students. **

_Duel you?_

**I know it's quite a frightening prospect, but I promise I won't be too hard on anyone!**

_Actually get to throw a curse at you?_

I'm afraid that Minerva will be busy at the time we discussed, Gilderoy.

_Will I be?_

Yes.

_I'll have to discuss that with you…_

It is not a matter open for discussion.

**Actually, I was planning on taking your suggestion from the last time we discussed the club, Minerva. Severus, would you be willing?**

Oh, great Merlin's beard…

_**I am very much unwilling, Lockhart.**_

_What if Severus did whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing at the time of the club meeting and then I could – _

NO, Minerva!

_Come on, just one tiny little hex and that's all!_

Guess my answer, Minerva.

_You infuriating old man! I'll send one "tiny" little hex in your direction and then – _

**Come now, Severus! As head of Slytherin, it might be a very good idea for you to be seen ASSISTING the resistance toward Slytherin's heir and – **

_**Just what are you suggesting, Lockhart?**_

Uh oh… Minerva! Come quick! If Severus goes in for the kill you can see it better from my office!

_**I'm out of floo powder, Pomona.**_

I'll lend you some if it means getting to THAT office…

_**You did not answer me before, Lockhart. What are you suggesting?**_

**Nothing! Merely that students may be more frightened by the Slytherin House and therefore its head and – **

_Severus takes great pride in installing fear in the hearts of all the students, Gilderoy. You're hardly convincing him._

I think it a fine idea for you to co-lead the dueling club, Severus.

**Ah! See! Can't say no to the headmaster, can we? Come now, a simple demonstration! I'll do the rest!**

_**Demonstration…**_

_Oh, how I envy you at the moment, Severus…_

_**Very well, Lockhart. I will demonstrate dueling to the children with you.**_

**Good man!**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

To anyone thinking along the lines of, "OMG! Snape totes wouldn't say/notice that!": First of all, Snape notices just about everything, in case _you _didn't notice while reading the books. Secondly, Hermione is described as coming out of the office with "the front of her robes bulging." Any girl knows what that means, therefore... Deal with it. :P

I luuuurve reviews!


	22. Chapter 22

_**TWENTY-TWO – The Dueling Club**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Minerva.<strong>_

_How did it feel to curse him, Severus?_

_**Potter's a Parselmouth.**_

_WHAT? That's a sick, sick, joke, Severus, and not at all funny!_

_**I'm not trying to be funny.**_

_Gilderoy! You were there! Tell me Severus is lying!_

**I wish that I could, Minerva, but it appears that Potter is the H – **

_NO HE IS NOT! The Potter family's been in Gryffindor for at least five generations, and Lily Evans was Muggle-born! Potter is NOT the Heir of Slytherin!_

_**Explain, then, how he can speak to snakes!**_

_How do you even know he can?_

_**Malfoy used Serpensortia in a duel and – **_

_Whose idea was THAT, Severus?_

_**Never mind whose idea it was. The point is that the snake that came was focused on Potter and I was prepared to get rid of it until Idiot Supreme stepped in – **_

**Idiot Supreme? To whom are you referring, Severus?**

_You, you dolt! Go on, Severus._

_**He blasted the thing a clear ten feet into the air and it landed in front of Finch-Fletchley and was preparing to strike as I was about to Vanish it and Potter jumped in front of it. I don't know what the boy said, but the snake left Finch-Fletchley alone.**_

_But he's a Gryffindor! He just CAN'T be the Heir!_

**But he's a Parseltongue.**

I sincerely doubt that Mr. Potter is Slytherin's Heir.

_Ha! Can't go against the headmaster, now can we, Gilderoy? I am curious as to your reasoning, Albus. Would you care to enlighten the rest of us?_

Oh, I don't think I'll burden you with my theory at present.

_Another theory? No, now you HAVE to tell us because the last theory you had almost lost us three students!_

Not to mention a staff member.

_**What was Quirrell worth, anyway?**_

Fair point.

_Albus._

…

_Albus?_

_Albus!_

I know the line that comes next!

_You infuriating old man! I swear – No, I'm going up to that office and getting that theory out of him one way or another!_

_Maybe you should stop and gather your thoughts first, Minerva._

_I think not, Filius. If I stop and gather my thoughts then he wins, and I can't have that. _

Well as long as she's going to throw a fit we should place bets.

_**There's no contest.**_

**I quite agree! It's quite clear as day that Dumbledore – **

No, literally, there's no contest.

**And I agreed…**

As in there won't be a duel, necessarily. Minerva will simply throw a multitude of curses and Albus will deflect them all.

_**Should Dumbledore fight back, he would, of course, win the duel, though Minerva would present him a challenge. However, he's never found a need. She gets tired eventually.**_

_A strange sort of chivalry from Albus._

More like trying not to lose his deputy.

Now, Severus, really, is Potter a Parselmouth?

_**If you think I'm lying Pomona, there is nothing that could convince you short of seeing the boy speak Parseltongue in front of you.**_

I just can't believe it! Lily and James's son?

_It is very strange. However, being a Parselmouth does not necessarily make a wizard dark. Potter has proven himself able to make split-second decisions, and they are typically sound, at least from a moral standpoint._

True. Very true, Filius. I think we're in agreement it's not Potter, then?

_Most certainly!_

**I'm not entirely certain. Really, now, who have you heard of in history that was a Parselmouth that wasn't a dark wizard? **

_**If Potter were the Heir, Lockhart, he wouldn't be friends with a Muggle-born, now would he?**_

Hopped sides, have you, Severus?

_**Upon reconsideration, yes. I believe the thought of Potter being the Heir as unlikely as you being it, Pomona.**_

Well according to what the students must think, that's very likely.

_**They're all dunderheads, aren't they?**_

Not all of them. Crabbe and Goyle, however… I worry about them.

_**I'm concerned about just every Hufflepuff that walks through my doors.**_

Would you all quit picking on my house?

_**Pomona, it's Hufflepuff!**_

I'd rather be in Hufflepuff than Slytherin!

_**Such backwards logic…**_

It's snowing. I'm going to go check on the mandrakes and you, Severus, are going to go into your hidey hole and leave me alone!

_Oh, my! The Mandrakes! It is snowing a rather lot… Would you like help making sure they keep warm, Pomona?_

No, no, no! Nothing against anyone, but I really think I ought to do this one on my own! If the mandrakes end up dying, we'll not be able to get Creevey back!

_**Or Norris…**_

Yeah, but who cares about Norris unless Filch isn't around and you can aim a good kick at her?

_**That's not a very Hufflepuff-like idea, is it, Pomona?**_

I know for a fact you've kicked her more times than I have! Now I'm off! Good night!

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

If you've ever wanted to kick Norris - or Lockhart. Let's throw Lockhart in there - review!


	23. Chapter 23

_**TWENTY-THREE – The Dueling Club, The Polyjuice Potion**_

"Heaven's sakes, Mr. Linton! Hold him _still_, or I'll end up hitting you!" McGonagall snapped as she aimed her wand at a rather hyper badger sat on one of her desks.

"I'm sorry, Professor!" Linton said, cradling his right hand. "He bit me when I caught him!"

"I think it serves you right that Mr. Earnshaw bite you after you turned him into a badger," McGonagall said unsympathetically. Nonetheless, she waved her wand at Linton's hand and his skin mended itself.

"I didn't mean to, honest!" Linton protested.

"A simple 'thank you for healing my finger, Professor' would have sufficed, Mr. Linton. Now let's put Mr. Earnshaw back right, shall we?" McGonagall said curtly as she felt her nostrils begin to flare.

Linton either finally ran out of excuses or sensed the great danger that was his professor's fury, for he grabbed the twitchy badger by the neck and held it down firmly so it stopped crawling all over.

McGonagall began waving her wand in various formations and slowly, but surely, the badger on the desk began to turn back into a student.

"**ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"**

McGonagall stopped halfway through her spell at the sound of Peeves's familiar voice. Her students began to run for the door, but she shouted that they get out of her way and rushed out before them; poor Mr. Earnshaw's hair was still black and white striped.

Once the whole of the transfiguration class had made it to the proper hallway, McGonagall easily made her way to the front of the crowd; students instantly knew to let her through. She looked at the floor and felt her heart skip several beats. Peeves had been right. There was another attack, a double one, and no mortal _or_ ghost was safe. Finch-Fletchley lay on the floor, obviously Petrified. McGonagall found herself more frightened by the sight of Nearly Headless Nick, however. If the monster could attack ghosts…

McGonagall became aware that there was too much noise going on for any sense to be made, and so she drew her wand and caused a bang that rose far above the sound of everyone's voices.

"Go back to your classrooms!" she ordered. "Go on!" she added as several students lingered.

"_**Caught in the act!**_**" **Ernie Macmillan yelled, pointing at Harry.

"**That will do, Macmillan!**" McGonagall said automatically, though her heart suddenly felt a great deal heavier. She should have expected Potter would be blamed, especially after the dueling club, but actually seeing and hearing students accuse him stung her more than she thought it would.

"**Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh what have you done,**

**You're killing off students, you think it's good fun – **"

Peeves's singing did not improve McGonagall's mood. **"That's enough Peeves!"** Peeves, robbed of his fun, flew away. McGonagall felt certain the ghosts would soon all be in a fabulous fury. Not since they had died had they been in danger.

"How are we going to get Nick up to Poppy?" Professor Sinistra asked, looking at the ghost quizzically.

Flitwick took out his wand and tried a few things, but to no avail.

"Go ahead and get Finch-Fletchley out of here," McGonagall said to Flitwick and Sinistra.

Flitwick looked over at Sinistra. He hardly came up to her waist. Carrying the Petrified student would not be easy between the two of them. He opened his mouth and looked at McGonagall, but she shook her head slightly and looked pointedly at Harry. He understood, and so he and Sinistra began the awkward transportation of the fallen Hufflepuff to the hospital wing.

Now alone with Macmillan and Potter, McGonagall walked a few circles around Nick before coming up with an idea. She conjured a fan and handed it to Macmillan. "Kindly waft Sir Nicholas to Madame Pomfrey, Macmillan."

Macmillan took the fan, and, looking as if it were the strangest thing he had ever done in his life, began waving it at Nick to guide the ghost through the halls.

With no other excuses, McGonagall turned to Potter. **"This way, Potter."**

"**Professor," said Harry at once, "I swear I didn't – "**

"**This is out of my hands, Potter,"** McGonagall said, sounding much sharper than she felt.

As she lead Harry through the halls, her mind whirled madly. _How_ could she keep defending him if he kept cropping up in the wrong places? Her excuses were running thin. She looked at him concernedly for a few seconds. Could he be Slytherin's heir? Yes, his mother was a Muggle-born, and yes, the Potters had been in Gryffindor for five generations, but Slytherin had lived a thousand years ago. Time changed things… Maybe it was possible.

McGonagall snapped her eyes forward and furrowed her brows slightly. No, it simply wasn't possible. Harry was a Potter, and Potters were not capable of such cruel acts, and as she had pointed out before, Harry had nearly died less than a year ago _defending_ Hogwarts. Why would he suddenly change his mind and start attacking its Muggle-borns?

Muggle-borns! Granger! Granger was the key to her defense of Potter. Slytherin's heir would never befriend a Muggle-born.

Confidence only slightly boosted, McGonagall said the password to the stone gargoyle and led Potter up the stairs and into the head's office, but Dumbledore was not there. She left Harry by himself, rather unwillingly, and went out in search of the headmaster.

"Albus!" she said, relieved, as she spotted the man coming up the stairs at the end of the hallway.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said. "I thought you had the seventh years during this block?"

McGonagall sighed heavily. The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes left as the breath left his deputy's lungs. "What's happened?"

"Another," she said simply. "Double."

"Who?" Dumbledore demanded, anger simmering in his eyes.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley and…" McGonagall found it difficult to name the other victim.

"Minerva, who is it?" Dumbledore demanded.

"Nick," she said quietly, and the issue facing the school became just that much more real.

"Sir Nicholas?" Dumbledore asked, taken aback.

McGonagall nodded.

Dumbledore began to hurry off without another word, but his deputy called him back.

"Albus! That's not all I found you for," she said.

Dumbledore returned to stand in front of his deputy again, looking most disturbed. "There's more?"

"Potter, again," she admitted. "He was there first."

Dumbledore sighed. "Where is he now?"

"I left him in your office. I don't know what to do with him! He just keeps popping up where he shouldn't be at exactly the wrong time and – "

"Go back to your class, Minerva. I will take care of Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said reassuringly. His deputy walked off and he turned to face his office, wondering what on earth could Petrify a ghost. He shook his head sadly as he ascended the stairs into his office. Hogwarts was nearly completely upside down, and he, the headmaster, was powerless to turn it back upright.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Notebook<strong>_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

* * *

><p>Merlin's beard! What could do that to a ghost? Nick's already dead!<p>

Most unusual.

_I don't suppose you've developed any ideas?_

No, I have not.

_What'd Potter say?_

He didn't really say anything.

…_You used Legilimens, didn't you?_

No.

_You're lying, aren't you?_

Let's be logical, Minerva. If I were lying, would I admit it?

_You did use Legilimens! What's going on in that boy's head?_

I really have no idea what you're talking about, Minerva.

_You fr – _

"You frustrating old man! You know full well what I'm talking about, and don't you pretend different!" Did I get it down right, Minerva?

_Go knit the mandrakes some mittens, Pomona._

Been there, done that. I've nothing to do but discuss the situation at hand now.

_The board's going to be on us soon…_

_If not already. Albus?_

The board has expressed their concern.

_And? Have they said anything about… about closing?_

That has been mentioned.

NO! Hogwarts can't simply shut down! It's an icon! It's the best and biggest school of our kind –

It's a serious danger to anyone within it.

_You can't mean to say you AGREE with the idea of closing?_

I sincerely hope Hogwarts does not close. However, if no solution to these attacks can be found, it may be for the best.

_NO! No, no, no, no! Hogwarts isn't just a school! It's a home! Where would all the students go? Where would all of US go?_

Never mind what happens to us. It is the students and their safety that is our first priority, and always has been. If the only way to protect them is to close, then so be it.

…

_You're right, of course. I lost myself. _

_**Perhaps our best option at present is to attempt to figure out what might be able to do what damage it has?**_

_Do you have an idea where to start, Severus? Because I certainly don't!_

_Yes, you do._

_That's news to me._

_Hagrid!_

_What?_

_Think for a moment, Minerva! We all know what Hagrid was expelled for – _

_Hagrid's got nothing to do with this!_

_I was getting to that. Hagrid's innocent, I don't doubt it, but there was obviously reason for him to be expelled. I think it might be a good idea to question him. Perhaps he saw something he shouldn't have, or whatever it was he had has a clue._

_And you think that I should go talk to him?_

_I think he'd be more willing to talk to you than any of us except Albus._

_Fantastic. You go talk to him, Albus!_

I'm afraid I've been summoned for a meeting.

_Fine. I'll go talk to Hagrid. I hate you all._

Hagrid's not going to get us anywhere, Filius. Surely you see that?

_We can't just do nothing, Pomona! Perhaps we are grasping at straws, but what other choice do we have? Whatever's going through our halls can harm the GHOSTS! I thought you might be a bit more ardent about finding this thing, considering it's taken one of your students now._

Don't you dare say I'm not working at this, Filius!

**Come on now, let's not fight!**

Shut up, Gilderoy! You're not helping matters!

_Go on and work on your lesson plans, Gilderoy!_

_**How ironic that hatred is what's resolving the rift between you two.**_

**Ironic indeed…**

_**You don't know what it is they both hate, do you, Lockhart?**_

**Well there are plenty of options available.**

Only if you're unable to see past the end of your nose.

**That would be a very selfish person indeed!**

_If anyone needs me, I'm going to be in the library, prepared to curse whoever bothers me._

Such a typical Ravenclaw solution. The library.

_And just what is your solution to problems and puzzles, Pomona?_

The mandrakes will end up providing more of a solution than your books.

_Just what information was gained from those revived after attacks last time, Pomona?_

…

Well there's Nick this time! Go stick your nose in a book, Filius!

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Oh, the chaos stress creates. -deep sigh-

I'm going to go take a nap now, but I promise to read your pretty review when I wake up!


	24. Chapter 24

_**TWENTY-FOUR – The Polyjuice Potion**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

* * *

><p>Christmas break! Finally!<p>

_**I'm sure it'll be extraordinarily peaceful with all the Weasleys running amuck.**_

Do I detect a hint of sarcasm, Severus?

_Severus, sarcastic? I don't know if that's possible, Pomona._

_**So very amusing.**_

_Just why are you in such a bad mood, Severus?_

Isn't it obvious? This is a joyous time of year. That, of course, puts Severus into a poor mood.

_Ah. How could I have forgotten? I thought it might have had to do with the dueling session we had yesterday. Silly me._

_**Arrogance helps no one, Minerva.**_

_Arrogance? Did I just do something arrogant?_

_**You implied arrogance.**_

_I think not._

There's no need to be sour just because she beat you, Severus.

**You fell to Minerva, Severus?**

_**Let's see how you fair against her, Lockhart!**_

_Oh, a wonderful idea! Come, Gilderoy! Let's duel!_

You're busy, Minerva.

_As far as I know, I'm sitting in my office with my feet on my desk, thoroughly enjoying the idea of dueling Gilderoy. I'm all caught up on paperwork, as well, so there's really no excuse._

I'll arrange something then.

_I'm sure Gilderoy is eager to demonstrate his skill, perhaps even redeem himself from the defeat he suffered in front of all the students at Severus's hand?_

**I hardly think I need to redeem myself for anything, Minerva, and I certainly don't wish to cause you any harm, so I think I'll stay here in my office.**

_Cause me harm? This would only be a friendly duel, Gilderoy, or are you too cowardly to accept the invitation?_

_**Typical Gryffindor form of persuasion…**_

_I'd prefer that to being threatened, as a Slytherin would do._

_I haven't let you off the hook quite yet, Gilderoy. Come on now, a simple duel between colleagues. What harm could practicing do? You've been preaching to the students to practice, after all. Shouldn't you lead by example?_

**Yes, but unfortunately – **

_You managed to miss the dueling session we had yesterday. Surely you want to brush up on your skills, what with the number of those Petrified growing rapidly?_

**I hardly think I need to "brush up" my skills.**

Your record says differently.

_WEASLEYS!_

_**They're everywhere, Filius. What's your point?**_

_The twins have done something; Percy's after them._

Minerva! Fix it.

_You're closest, Filius._

_I'm busy._

_You're lying._

_Why don't you come up and check?_

_No! Because then I'LL be closest and won't have an excuse anymore!_

Nice try, Filius.

_I'm still not dealing with the twins._

_Then I guess they'll run amuck._

Oh dear! What an inconvenience for you, Minerva. I think I hear them in the Transfiguration corridor…

_If you can hear them, you're closest. Get on it._

They're in YOUR classroom!

_I locked it!_

Not well enough. I think I just heard a few cages fall over.

_They won't risk my wrath. They'll clean up._

_Would you go get your students?_

_NO! I'm on holiday._

Gilderoy's not.

_What's that supposed to mean, Pomona?_

He just walked by my office in the direction of the loud ruckus coming from your room.

_The sooner we're rid of him, the better!_

* * *

><p>Frustrated with her colleagues and furious with Lockhart, McGonagall slammed the notebook on her desk shut and rose, muttering to herself as she made her way to her classroom.<p>

"We're not playing any game, Professor!" Percy said loudly. "They've taken my badge!"

"Come on, Perce!" said Fred smoothly. "What are you trying to get us in trouble for?"

"Yeah! What's a game of tag between brothers?" George asked.

"Mr. Weasley!" said the disgustingly cheery voice of Lockhart. "That's a rather not nice thing to do, and on Christmas of all days! I suppose I'll let it go this time, but in – "

McGonagall finally entered her classroom. Judging by the way the twins were stepping back ever so slowly, she looked properly terrifying. "Professor Lockhart," she said curtly, "I will handle my students. Thank you."

"I simply thought I'd go find out what was going on," Lockhart said. "I saw you, Pomona, and Filius arguing about – "

Eyes popping slightly, McGonagall twitched her wand behind her back and one of the cages in her room bust open. A bird flew through the air for a few seconds before deciding on Lockhart as its prey. It swooped down and pecked at the man's head, causing him to yelp and duck. He drew his wand, but dropped it as the bird made a second dive.

Barely able to restrain a smirk and pleased the bird had done its job, McGonagall waved her wand again, this time in front of herself for all to see. The bird lost its ability to fly and landed on a desk. Ever persistent, however, it began hopping across desks back over to Lockhart.

"I suppose you're right, Minerva," Lockhart said unsteadily. "These are Gryffindors, after all. Well, happy Christmas!" He left the room quickly, taking care to close the door behind himself.

The twins, who had been snickering behind their hands, quickly arranged their features to look as though they had just been informed a dear friend was very sick as their professor turned her glare onto them.

"Explain," McGonagall demanded.

"They took my prefect badge, Professor," Percy immediately volunteered. "That's the second time today alone!"

"Perhaps you ought to keep a closer watch on your badge then?" McGonagall suggested. "Failing to react would also cause them to get bored with the activity."

She turned on the twins, who were once again smiling. "Have I said something funny?" she asked.

"No, Professor," Fred and George said together, the grins sliding off their faces

McGonagall held out her hand. "Give it over," she ordered.

Exchanging a displeased and exasperated look with his twin, George pulled a prefect badge out of his pocket and handed it over to McGonagall.

McGonagall tossed the badge to Percy. "You may go now," she told the older Weasley as he repinned the badge to his robes.

Making sure to give his brothers a smug smile, Percy left.

"Can't you two let anyone rest for a single day?" McGonagall snapped at the twins.

"Well, Professor," Fred began, but was cut off.

"Quite!" McGonagall bit out. "What was your end game in all this? I would assume it was to lose your brother, therefore leaving him to roam the halls by himself at a time when such a thing is highly inadvisable. Tell me, do you think about anything than your own entertainment? Or, better yet, do you think at all?"

The twins remained firmly silent, though their eyes had dropped ever so slightly.

"Answer me!" McGonagall demanded.

"But you told us to be qui – "

"I changed my mind!" McGonagall barked, cutting George off.

"To answer you, then, we do – " Fred tried to explain.

"Never mind! Go back up to Gryffindor Tower. I don't want to see or hear either of you until dinner, understood?"

"Certainly, Professor!" George said, a slightly confused look on his face at his teacher's moodiness. He and his brother slid out of the classroom and shortly after into a secret passageway.

"What do you reckon Lockhart was talking about, George?" Fred asked.

"Dunno," George admitted. "A bit fishy that he _saw_ McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout arguing about what we were up to, don't you think?"

"We're of one mind, George," Fred said with a smile.

"Well then you know what we've got to do next, don't you?"

In response, Fred pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket and laid it out on the floor.

"_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!_" George said, tapping the parchment with his wand.

"Whatever would we do without the Map, George?" Fred asked.

"Get into loads more trouble than we do already, Fred," George said.

"Look there! Flitwick and Sprout are in their offices. McGonagall's headed back to hers. How could Lockhart have seen them arguing about anything?"

"I think some investigating is in order, Fred," George said.

"Agreed, George," said Fred. He put his own wand to the parchment. "_Mischief Managed!_"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Why? Because it's impossible to resist writing Fred and George. Gotta love the twins!

Why have I taken so long to update? There's this thing called school that eats away at my soul for the majority of the year, and it's started. *pout* Updates *should* speed up again once I've got my life back in order. :)

Review!


	25. Chapter 25

_**TWENTY – FIVE – The Polyjuice Potion, The Very Secret Diary**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

* * *

><p>I don't suppose you've heard about Miss Granger, Minerva?<p>

_Of course I heard! Poppy told me just after the girl went to her._

_What's happened?_

Quite awful, really. Granger's half cat.

…_What?_

I don't know. Minerva?

_Poppy doesn't ask questions, and she's not letting me, either. _

_**Perhaps Miss Know-It-All attempted a transfiguration.**_

_She's a SECOND YEAR, Severus! She's advanced, and she catches on quickly, but she's not stupid! She wouldn't have tried to do a human transfiguration._

_**Then perhaps there's another explanation. I believe I brought it up when some of my personal stocks went missing.**_

_Are you still on about them brewing Polyjuice? See above statement._

_**It could have been some sort of accident with the brewing if she did try it. You thought I was being ridiculous when I suggested a traitor last year, too.**_

_I think this idea even more ludicrous. _

_**You simply don't want to think badly of your students.**_

**Did I hear that Miss Granger's up in the hospital wing?**

And I thought I'd be able to go the whole day without hearing from him…

_Yes, Gilderoy, Granger is in the hospital wing._

**Dreadful! What's happened to the girl?**

_Nothing of your concern._

**Oh, come now! **

_She's managed to half turn herself into a cat, Gilderoy._

**That's easily fixed! I'll just go up now and – **

_NO! No you will not! You'll just stay in your office and leave Madame Pomfrey to it!_

**Really now, it's a very simple spell – **

_No! Don't you touch my student, Gilderoy! You "helped" Poppy enough with Potter._

**You're being just a touch ridiculous, Minerva, don't you think?**

_You think I'm being ridiculous? I'll SHOW you ridi – _

Miss Granger is in perfectly capable hands, Gilderoy. Madame Pomfrey will take care of her. 

_Yes, let Poppy do her job. That way you can focus more on your own, Gilderoy!_

_A fabulous suggestion, seeing as how far behind students now are in Def – _

Minerva.

_What, Albus? You know I'm ri – _

Minerva…

_None of the fifth years are going to pass the O – _

Minerva!

_FINE!_

_**Do you know what I found interesting today?**_

_No, and I don't particularly think I want to hear what you found interesting._

_**Someone locked Crabbe and Goyle in a closet after dinner.**_

_Serves the brutes right. I'd love to lock them up somewhere._

Maybe they finally picked on the wrong person.

_**They were missing their shoes.**_

_Why would you take their shoes?_

Agreed. Those things probably smell awful.

_**Is no one else making the connections I am?**_

_SECOND YEARS, Severus! SECOND!_

_**I still think them capable of thinking they were capable – **_

_That's it! You'd better lock your office up, because I'm coming down there and so help me if I get in!_

You're forgetting our meeting, Minerva.

_I am not! You set that for tomorrow morning!_

I've moved it up.

_Well that's marvelously convenient, isn't it?_

Very much so.

_You're going to drive me mad one of these days, you know that, don't you?_

Only if you don't manage to drive me off the cliff first.

_What do I do in comparison to the things you put me through?_

Merlin's beard. Here we go.

Keeping track of your possible outbursts is quite a taxing job, Minerva.

_Perhaps you should just leave me to it, then?_

I think not. That'd be quite a bit of paperwork. 

Expensive too, what with the bills for St. Mungo's, and then paying people to keep quiet and –

_Shut up, Pomona._

Just trying to help.

_Yeah, right. Let's get that meeting over with then, Albus?_

I've moved it back to tomorrow morning.

_YOU INFURIATING OLD MAN!_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Disappointingly short, I know, especially since I've been away for over a week now! -sigh- I haven't figured out my life for this school year yet, which means complete chaos and loads of stress. Be nice to me!

Oh, hey! You know how you can be super nice to me? I'm not even going to tell you. You'll have to guess.

Well... okay. I'll give you a hint. It has to do with a button just a little bit below this message...


	26. Chapter 26

_**TWENTY-SIX - The Very Secret Diary**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Your Gryffindors are meddling again, Minerva.<strong>_

_I am not in the mood to be toyed with, Snape!_

Well I'm interested. Share, Severus!

_No. _

I want to hear, he wants to tell. You're outvoted.

_Since when has Hogwarts been a democracy? Especially on the staff?_

You're trying to pull rank on us?

_For this? Yes._

_**Pity I'm going to talk anyway. I've just seen – **_

_I don't care. Shut up._

_Might I suggest you close your notebook and grade some essays then, Minerva?_

_Then you'll all know something I don't and I'll be frustrated._

_Then there's no winning for you. Come on, Severus._

_**Your scheming second years just left the trophy room, Minerva.**_

_And?_

_**No one ever goes in the trophy room.**_

_Did you check it for a cauldron? Maybe that's where they're brewing their super secret stash of Polyjuice!_

_**Your sarcasm is ever so charming.**_

_Well if Miss Granger was there I hardly think we can be terribly suspicious. She does look into things very thoroughly, you know. It may have been some sort of research she dragged Potter and Weasley along for._

* * *

><p><strong>+++FEW WEEKS LATER+++<strong>

_If I hear that man's voice one more time, I'm going to vomit all over his embroidered robes._

Who could you POSSIBLY be speaking of, Minerva?

_Three guesses who._

I think I'd only need one.

_Do you know what he's going about saying NOW?_

No. What?

_He thinks he's stopped the Heir of Slytherin!_

Without some showdown in the Great Hall to prove it?

_No doubt it was "too quick a takedown" to be able to show the school._

**Just what are we referring to here?**

_Nothing! Nothing at all, Gilderoy!_

* * *

><p>"I <em>hate<em> February fourteenth!" McGonagall hissed to Sprout in the hall between classes.

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with the date," Sprout said. She gave her colleague a knowing look. "It all depends on who's around you."

"Do you know he tried to convince me to let him charm my robes red this morning?" McGonagall asked.

Sprout's eyebrows rose into her flyaway hair. "Lucky you didn't agree. I can't imagine what would come of _that_."

McGonagall's nose flared quickly. "I'm telling you, if another one of those dwarves comes into my classroom, I'm going to – "

"Hello, good colleagues!" said a most accursed voice, coming up behind the two witches.

"Good afternoon, Gilderoy," McGonagall said stiffly.

"Such a happy day, don't you think? I must admit that this idea of mine was a most marvelous one," Lockhart said proudly, surveying students as they scurried in every direction in attempts to avoid the dressed up dwarves chasing them.

"Absolutely genius," McGonagall said drily.

"Did you hear the valentine Potter got?" Draco Malfoy's slick voice rose high above the murmur of the hall as he laughed with his friends. "Bet you _anything_ it was from the Weasley girl. Stupid little first year. Can't take a hint, can she? Not to say I'd be surprised if Potter _did_ go for her, he's thrown himself in with the rest of the weasels."

McGonagall gave Sprout an exasperated look and nearly dropped her face into her hands.

"Ah, Miss Weasley gave Mr. Potter a valentine, I gather," Lockhart said with a wide smile. "One of the many consequences of being a handsome devil. It's a problem I face myself, though I must admit on quite a larger scale."

McGonagall looked sideways at Lockhart, amazed at how shallow he was. "Malfoy was just insulting his classmates, Gilderoy," she said through her teeth.

"Was he?" Lockhart asked interestedly. "Well then, I'll put a stop to that!"

McGonagall watched as Lockhart wove through the halls in his disgustingly pink robes after Malfoy. She considered stopping the great idiot, but was too glad to be rid of him and so just let him go.

"Like father, like son," Sprout sighed, nodding her head at Malfoy. Then, smiling, she added, "I can't deny that Potter and – "

"Oh, no you don't!" McGonagall said, sharply cutting across Sprout.

"What?" Sprout asked innocently.

"I know just what you're about to say and don't you _dare_ think about trying anything to facilitate any happenings, Pomona!"

"Oh, come on, now. It is Valentine's day!"

"They're eleven and twelve! Merlin's beard, no!"

"Well I call it," Sprout said, crossing her arms. "Sooner or later. The Potters always did go for red heads."

McGonagall rolled her eyes and ducked into her classroom before Sprout said anything further.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Because we can't pretend we were the only ones that noticed Ginny and Harry. :)

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I eat reviews for breakfast. Don't you want to help me have a good breakfast?


	27. Chapter 27

_**TWENTY-SEVEN - Cornelius Fudge**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

* * *

><p>The mandrakes are almost ready!<p>

_That's wonderful! Soon we'll have everyone back! We'll be able to get to the bottom of all this nonsense._

_**It appears to me that the nonsense has stopped. It's been nearly four months since anything's happened. **_

_Enough time to lull us into a false sense of security. We haven't stopped whatever it was that did the attacks in the first place, which means it's still somewhere and we have to find it, even if it is dormant again._

**There will be no need for that! The attacks are done, over with! I've told you already that – **

_If the Heir of Slytherin is gutsy enough to attack students under Dumbledore's nose they certainly don't give a hoot about you, Gilderoy! You haven't done anything, so shut your trap!_

_How long do you think, Pomona?_

They'll definitely be ready before the school year's out.

_What the Creeveys will think! That poor boy's been out for most of his first year._

_Mr. Creevey was a very enthusiastic student before he was Petrified. I'm certain he'll push to return should his parents be on the fence about letting him._

His parents are Muggles. What are they going to do? Bash Hogwarts in front of their friends? Their friends will think them mad! Everything will be fine, I'm sure.

_Agreed! Pomona and Poppy will revive all the victims, at least one of them will be able to tell us something of merit, we'll sort everything out, and Hogwarts will be all well!_

_Yes, you're right. We have to think rationally. Odds are that Nick, if no one else, will be able to tell us something. I have full confidence in you, Pomona. Let me know if you need anything for those mandrakes._

Thank you both! So exciting that all this Chamber of Secrets nonsense is almost over!

* * *

><p>So much for the Chamber nonsense being over!<p>

_Another double attack! Oh, no! Oh, no! One of my Ravenclaws now, too!_

That's someone from every house but Slytherin. Come now, Severus! Surely you must suspect SOMEONE?

_**I have, as requested, been keeping a closer eye on my students; however, I have not been given any reason to suspect any of them are letting a monster loose on the school.**_

Did you notice anyone missing from the Quidditch match, maybe?

_**I hardly think that a reliable source of information, even if I had managed to somehow take attendance for my whole house, Pomona. Clearwater and Granger weren't at the match, were they? **_

_Fair point, but there must be SOMETHING we're missing!_

You're being rather quiet, Minerva.

_I don't exactly feel up to par, Pomona, what with two of my students down and the very real threat of losing my home looming over my head._

They can't really be serious about closing Hogwarts though, can they? I mean, really…

_Albus said he'll close it himself if there's a single hint of another attack. _

NO!

_If it's the only way to keep the students from getting harmed, so be it. _

_Who would do this? Really? No student could WANT Hogwarts to close! Last time it was the threat of the school closing that brought about an explanation. Even if it was a complete lie, everything stopped, at least! _

_Then you're hoping for history to continue to repeat itself? You're hoping that someone will be caught, guilty or not?_

_Of course I hope whoever it is really is guilty, but I can't deny I'd accept anything that made it all stop! We all know what's going to come next, and I just don't think I could handle it._

**Pray tell, Minerva, what does come next? I can hardly think of – **

_Murder comes next, Gilderoy! Murder of children who have done absolutely nothing to deserve it. _

**Ah.**

_**We cannot pretend that only the students are targets. If we're complacent about it, Poppy will – **_

NO! Yes, Poppy's Muggle-born, but she can –

_She's not a fool and neither are you, Pomona! We all know it COULD happen!_

Pardon my bursting in, but patrol? Minerva, Pomona, second floor. Severus, keep an eye out by where we found Mrs. Norris. Filius – 

_No! That means you've left me with - !_

_You're the only one who has patience enough for him, and if he scampers off you're one of the most capable to handle whatever situation might arise on your own._

Septima Vector will be joining you and Gilderoy, Filius.

_Septima? Wonderful! Very sensible woman. Fine. I'll deal with Gilderoy. _

_A great many thanks for your sacrifice, Filius!_

_Yes, yes, you owe me._

Or maybe not. After all, if Minerva and he were partners, she might just rid us of him and –

_I hardly think this is the time to be making jokes about killings, Pomona._

_**Silly Hufflepuff.**_

Shut it, Snape!

Minerva, a quick word before you dart off.

_This had better be good news, Albus…_

I don't think so. 

_That'd be asking for too much, I suppose. Alright, out with it._

Cornelius is coming by. 

…

_He's coming for Hagrid, isn't he?_

I believe so.

_Oh, that poor man! You won't let him face Fudge alone, will you?_

No, I will be going with Cornelius to meet Hagrid. 

_What's going to happen to him?_

I think we both know the unhappy answer to that question.

_But he's innocent! How are we going to get him out of Azkaban?_

We'll figure something out. In the mean time, patrol. 

_Fine._

* * *

><p>McGonagall and Sprout roamed the second floor in silence. Both witches had their wands drawn and were very much on high alert.<p>

"What did Dumbledore want to talk to you about?" Sprout asked, breaking the tense quiet.

McGonagall clenched her teeth. "Fudge is coming for Hagrid," she explained simply.

Sprout's eyes snapped onto McGonagall. "But Hagrid – "

"I know that. You know that. _Fudge_ knows that, but he won't have himself seen as not doing anything, I'd wager."

"Minerva," Flitwick wheezed, hurrying up a flight of stairs.

"Filius! You left Septima alone with Lockhart?" Sprout asked, aghast.

"Lucius Malfoy's here looking for Albus," Flitwick told McGonagall with a meaningful look.

"No!" Sprout gasped.

McGonagall's brows connected and she began to storm off. "Stay with Pomona for now, Filius," she ordered before disappearing from their sight. No one else on patrol dared bother her as she made her way down to the front doors. "Lucius," she greeted coldly.

"Minerva," Lucius Malfoy returned. He looked far too smug for the professor's pleasure. "I don't suppose _you_ could tell me where Professor Dumbledore is?"

"Attending to a bit of business," McGonagall said stiffly. "I'll relay whatever message you have for him."

Mr. Malfoy sneered unpleasantly. "I think this is a message best delivered to him by one of the governors."

McGonagall felt her fingers begin to twitch and clutched them into fists to make them stop. "Governors? You haven't!"

"Haven't what?" Mr. Malfoy asked with false innocence. "Where is Dumbledore, Minerva?"

"Hagrid's," the woman said reluctantly.

Mr. Malfoy smiled unnervingly once more before turning on his heel back out the front doors.

Beyond furious, McGonagall stomped back up to meet Flitwick and Sprout. "Lucius Malfoy won the governors over," she said. It was enough explanation. The Charms and the Herbology professors promptly looked horrified.

"Best get back to Septima, Filius," McGonagall said.

Still in a state of dazed shock, Flitwick made his way unsteadily over to the stairs and out of sight.

"They can't take Albus!" Sprout finally managed to speak. "Without him – "

"We're not discussing it now, Pomona," McGonagall said shortly. "Not until it's confirmed."

In the minutes that followed, Sprout seemed to almost speak several times, but silent protests from her patrol partner stopped her. Silence so thick one could cut it with a knife settled until a familiar voice sounded.

"Minerva, a word," Dumbledore said.

McGonagall whipped around to find Dumbledore standing at the end of the hall, Lucius Malfoy right behind him. Anger bubbled up in the transfiguration mistress and threatened to choke her. She could tell from the utterly arrogant stance of Mr. Malfoy, the sad expression on Dumbledore's face, and the spark of fire in the headmaster's eyes that what she feared had happened.

Dumbledore opened the door to a classroom and held it for his deputy. She entered quickly and spoke as soon as the door closed. "He can't be serious!" she hissed furiously.

"I'm afraid he is," Dumbledore said. He pulled a scroll of parchment out of his pocket and held it out to his deputy. "My Order of Suspension."

McGonagall opened the scroll and looked at the twelve signatures in horror. "He must have done something to them," she said vaguely, feeling oddly off balance. "Half of these are sensible people. They'd know that removing you – "

"All the same, I will do as the Order says," Dumbledore said without his usual cheer. "The school must be kept running as smoothly and normally as possible."

McGonagall took a moment to close her eyes, breathe deeply, and collect herself, then rolled the parchment back up and replaced it in Dumbledore's hands, a determined look etched into her face. "I'll keep you posted," she said in her usual brisk voice.

Dumbledore pocketed his Order of Suspension and nodded. "I trust you to do the right thing, Minerva," he said and then left.

McGonagall stayed in the empty classroom a few minutes longer, leaning on a desk with her forehead against her fist. She pulled herself together once more and went back out into the corridor where Sprout was waiting for her, slightly teary eyed.

"What now, Minerva?" Sprout asked dismally.

McGonagall pulled out a pocket watch. "Now we tell the prefects to go to bed," she said. "Be sure to let them know what's happened. We don't need any more rumors flying around. Find Septima. Take her with you."

"And where are you going?" Sprout asked.

"Dumbledore's office," McGonagall said, striding off. "No doubt there are letters he's not gotten around to dealing with yet."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Lucius Malfoy, you jerk. No one likes you. Go home.

Iiiiiiffff yoooouuuu'rrrrrreeee happy and you know it, press review! If you're happy and you know it, press review! If you're happy and you know it than your mouse will surely show it, if you're happy and you know it, press review!

I got that song stuck in your head, didn't I? :)


	28. Chapter 28

**_TWENTY-EIGHT – Aragog_**

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

**-Pomfrey-**

* * *

><p>I can't take much more of this! WHY did the governors have to go and remove Dumbledore?<p>

_I think it was hardly the work of all the governors. More than likely only one of them, the git._

**-Gracious. You know things are bad when Filius Flitwick is in such a foul mood!-**

_Who are you and since when do you use your Notebook?_

**-Well seeing as I can hardly leave the hospital wing anymore…-**

**How's everyone up there doing?**

-…**They're not DOING much of anything, Gilderoy. They're Petrified!-**

Welcome to our hell, Poppy.

**-Your hell? You think I haven't been dealing with this issue as well?-**

**What issue?**

Never mind, Gilderoy!

**-The mandrakes, Pomona?-**

A week? Maybe two.

_Malfoy! That insufferable little twirp!_

_What's gotten you, Minerva?_

_You'd better talk some sense into that boy before I knock it into him, Severus! Have you heard him? Going around bragging about how his father got rid of Dumbledore? I'm surprised he hasn't been beaten to a pulp in the corridor yet!_

_**What would you have me do, Minerva? We all know he'll just report whatever I say back to his father and – **_

_Good thing you're such pals with Lucius, then!_

_Stop it! We can't argue, and we can't afford even the chance of losing someone else! We're already missing Hagrid and Albus. No one else can leave!_

**I hardly think the castle need fear while I'm still here!**

Minerva, please let me introduce him to the venomous tentacula.

**Having a bit of trouble with the plant, are we?**

_As much as I'd love to say yes, Pomona, I promised Albus I'd watch the school._

Damn.

**Do you require assistance, Pomona?**

Not from you.

**All the same, the castle need not fear. I've known where the Chamber is for some time now. **

_**Have you?**_

**Indeed! I daresay my run down there is what caused the monster to stay quiet for those four months!**

_**Pray tell, Lockhart, while you were wrestling the monster, did you happen to learn anything of its master?**_

**Perhaps you ought to take the Heads of House down to the Chamber with you, Gilderoy. Seeing as you didn't dispose of the creature, some back up may be of use to you?**

**Oh, no. I wouldn't want to put anyone else at risk, you see.**

_How noble of you._

_**Charming, Minerva.**_

_No more "charming" than you, Severus. _

_He's roaming the seventh floor again._

_Scared we'd ask him to go back and face the monster again, no doubt. As if he'd already seen it! Pah!_

_Best let him keep up his charade for now, it seems to keep him out of the way a little bit more._

**-When do you think Dumbledore will be back?-**

_I don't know if he will be at all… the school's so close to closing now…_

_I've told myself to pack… but I just can't do it._

We can't give up just yet. There's still a chance!

_**Hardly. It's best we face the facts. Unless the Heir is caught, Hogwarts will close. **_

Then we'll rebuild. It may take a few years, but there has to be a school here in Great Britain for magical children. They can't all be shipped off to Beaxbatons and Durmstrang!

**-The horror! That'd be just plain awful… what would the families that can't afford to send their children off do?-**

_Tutoring at home._

_It seems like that's what we're destined for… being hired out._

**-I'll kill myself before I go back to St. Mungo's! Hogwarts – it's home!-**

_It's home for us all, and perhaps it's best we start saying goodbye to it._

**Come now, that's hardly necessary! Hagrid's been – **

_HOW DARE YOU, GILDEROY? Have I not spoken to you on this subject several times already? Hagrid is more loyal to Hogwarts than any of us! He'd never, in a million years, do anything to harm it or its inhabitants! If I hear that you're going on about him – you'd best hope that I continue to be kind enough to grant you a patrol partner!_

_Minerva…_

_No! Enough! I've had it up to HERE with you, Gilderoy, and I've only tolerated you all year for Albus! With him gone – If I feel you're only causing more problems, I'll have you out of here before you can sign your name on another piece of paper! Do you understand me?_

…

_Gilderoy!_

…

_LOCKHART!_

I can see into his office from mine. He's shut his Notebook and locked his door.

_Like that would stop me!_

_He's got to stay here, Minerva. _

_**Agreed. If nothing else he can serve as bait if we do manage to find the monster.**_

_An appealing idea indeed. _

**-Six o'clock. I still hear students…-**

_Patrol, usual partners. _

_Perhaps you ought to go onto the first floor, Minerva. I have a feeling Gilderoy won't be happy being on the third floor with you just feet below him._

Serves him right to be terrified, picking on Hagrid like that!

_All the same, you and I will switch, Pomona. Severus, will you and Charity take the second floor?_

_**Very well. **_

_Thank you._

* * *

><p>"Oh, drat," Sprout said as she and McGonagall passed the entrance doors for the sixth time on patrol.<p>

"What?" McGonagall asked, looking around the hall keenly, raising her wand a little higher.

"I forgot to give Fang his dinner and let him out," Sprout said.

McGonagall looked at her pocket watch. "It's nearly one thirty, Pomona! Fang can wait until tomorrow morning."

"That poor creature hasn't been out since noon!" Sprout objected.

McGonagall looked around and sighed heavily. "Alright," she conceded, "but don't waste any time, we shouldn't be staying still too long."

"Right," Sprout said with a nod. She opened the doors and hurried out across the lawn. McGonagall waited in the open doorway, anxiously checking over her shoulder every few seconds while trying to keep an eye on her colleague on the dark grounds.

"Fang!" McGonagall heard Sprout call across the lawn. She looked out to see the herbology teacher in the doorway of Hagrid's hut. "Fang! Here boy!" Sprout gave a few loud whistles and called some more. She returned to the castle after closing Hagrid's door. "Fang must have found his own way out," she said, breathing deeply as she attempted to bring her pulse back down while she and her partner began moving once more.

"He wasn't there?" McGonagall asked sharply.

Sprout shook her head. "I must've left the door open a crack earlier today. He probably just pushed it open the rest of the way and let himself out."

"But Hagrid's door was shut when you went out there!"

"I'm sure Fang will be back by morning," Sprout said reassuringly. "He probably just went out to try to find his own food."

McGonagall said nothing further, though she still was not pleased with the boarhound's absence. _Someone_ had to have let the dog out, and it hadn't been Sprout, so who was up and out of bounds?

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Bonus points if you know where Fang REALLY is. :)

I'm sorry updates are so infrequent now. You can blame my teachers, if you want. In fact, you probably should because its their faults that I can hardly get on the computer anymore. :P Oh well! I'm still getting to you guys, right? Right.

There's a review ninja hiding in your room and there's only one way to get rid of it. Do you really want a ninja hiding out in your room somewhere? I mean, really, it's a NINJA! It's unbeatable. I think you best review to get it out of there.

-9-13-11-I apologize. I updated in a hurry and failed to realize that the underlining I had under Promfrey's stuff didn't stay. -pout- All better now, though!


	29. Chapter 29

1) Yes, Fang was in the forest. Good job! I've sent away for your bonus points. They'll be here in approximately 1.5 lightyears. I had to send away to another galaxy for them. Know they're on the way! ;)

2) Fixed Pomfrey's font. It was originally bold and underline, but that didn't save, so I improvised. Are we all happy now? Yes? Good. Continue on, then.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Twenty-Nine – The Chamber of Secrets<strong>_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lockhart**

**-Pomfrey-**

* * *

><p>I have news! Very good news!<p>

_Marvelous! Let's hear it, I'm all for a bit of cheering up._

The mandrakes are ready!

_MERLIN'S BEARD! That's the best news I've heard in years! We'll be able to put everything right! Poppy! POPPY!_

**-WHAT? Merlin's beard, I'm in the middle of – -**

The mandrakes are ready!

**-Well what are you wasting time for, Pomona? Bring them up here! We'll get started right away!-**

_**Will my assistance be required at all?**_

**-Thank you, Severus, but I don't think so. Nothing against you, mind you, but I'd simply prefer to do this myself.-**

_One of the victims will be able to tell us what's happened! We'll end all this! We'll get Albus back! We won't close!_

Don't forget Hagrid!

**-Pomona Sprout! Get those mandrakes up here!-**

I'm on my way, Poppy, heaven's sake!

**-We've no time to waste! Come on!-**

I –

_Just go, Pomona!_

_I think I could dance for joy, do you know? We'll have all our students back! Clearwater, Creevey, Granger, Finch-Fletcley, the whole lot! And Nick!_

_**A pity we'll have to revive Norris as well…**_

_Severus Snape: finding the cloud on every silver lining since 1960._

_**Charming.**_

_Come now, Minerva. I'm sure he wasn't always so pessimistic! Perhaps 1970?_

_Oh, no. He was well practiced by the time he came to Hogwarts. _

_Very well. 1965._

_Done._

_**Are you through yet?**_

_Heavens no! I've hardly messed with you in three weeks!_

**Well I daresay with this joyous news we'll not have to continue on with all these precautions and as such – **

_Oh no you don't, Gilderoy! We're not out of the woods yet! We'll keep patrol and will continue escorting students to their classes until the culprit is caught!_

**The culprit has already been caught, Minerva! Hag – **

_Don't say it, Gilderoy. I'm warning you._

**Really now, we haven't slept in days! Don't you think – **

_I am not relenting on these security measures until I am certain that the students of Hogwarts are safe, Gilderoy. Should you have a problem with that, you may come speak with me after classes. Until then, you will continue as "usual". _

**Honestly – **

_Shut UP, Gilderoy! Perhaps if I hadn't caught you dozing off on your patrol last night I'd be a bit kinder!_

**Three days without sleep, Minerva, really, I don't think anyone could blame me!**

_**The rest of us have slept ten hours combined over the past week, Lockhart. **_

_You will do your duty as a teacher in the school and protect the students or die trying, Gilderoy._

**Die trying? Come now, - **

_That is what you signed up for when you took this job, like it or not! Go drink some coffee and get to your job._

_**I think you've done a marvelous job of scaring him off, Minerva.**_

_Not good enough. He's still here._

_**The year's almost out. He won't stay for another, I'm sure of it.**_

_No he will not. If it comes to it, Albus is going to have to chose between me and him, because I will most certainly not take another year of his pompous smiles!_

_**You'd go back to working for the Ministry over dealing with Lockhart?**_

_Sadly enough, yes._

_**How deeply hate runs in a person…**_

_Enough discussion. Time for class._

* * *

><p><strong>-You gave Potter and Weasley permission to come up here, Minerva? Why?-<strong>

_They only wanted to visit their friend, Poppy!_

**-Like it'll do any of them any good! She can't hear a word they say and – -**

_What harm's it going to do?_

**-You're breaking your own protocol!-**

_Yes._

**-I just don't see the sense in it!-**

_There isn't much, I'll admit, but – _

**-But what?-**

_Hold that thought, Poppy. _

**-Minerva McGonagall! You can't do that to me! Come back here and tell me what you were saying!-**

* * *

><p>McGonagall felt inexplicably uneasy. Something in the atmosphere simply wasn't right. Perhaps she was being paranoid, what with knowing that Potter and Weasley would be going to their class without a staff escort, but she could not ignore her instincts.<p>

She approached the scene of the first attack and felt goose bumps rise up on her arms. When she came to stand in front of the message, she was sure her heart stopped beating all together for a full two minutes. She was unable to move and stood completely frozen, rather like a statue.

"_**Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever,"**_ she read aloud, hardly moving her lips. Utterly terrified, she looked at the floor beneath the message to see a stack of first year books laid out in a sinisterly artistic way. McGonagall forced herself to step nearer. She picked up one of the books gingerly and, with breathing very much forced, opened the front cover: _This book is property of Ginny Weasley_.

Unable to believe it to be true, McGonagall flung the book over her shoulder and snatched a second, third, fourth and fifth. All had the unfortunate girl's name in the front; one even had a red hair caught in the binding.

Left with no other explanation, McGonagall resumed staring at the wall in horror. She swallowed and, hand trembling, raised her wand to her throat. _**"All students to return to House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please."**_

McGonagall still stayed rooted to the spot, feeling remarkably dizzy, but the sound of hundreds of feet stomping in a panicked fashion brought her back to the reality of her responsibilities. She quickly gathered poor Ginny's books and carried them with her to the staff room where she set them carefully aside on a table before facing her colleagues to tell them the awful news.

* * *

><p>Worse still than telling the staff the youngest Weasley was missing was having to tell the rest of the Gryffindors. Most sincerely dreading informing her House of the event, McGonagall climbed through the portrait hole and was immediately bombarded with questions.<p>

"What's happened Professor?" Wood asked loudly.

"There can't have been another attack!" Lee Jordan shouted.

"Can the prefects do anything to help?" Percy Weasley asked.

"Maybe something's gone wrong with the mandrakes!" a fifth year called.

"No one's dead, are they?" Fred shouted out.

"Come on, Heir of Slytherin," George jested, poking a numb looking Harry in the chest. "We told you no killings!"

"Enough!" McGonagall burst. Her loss of composure brought on immediate silence and she suddenly found herself wishing the students were still screaming at each other. "You are being sent home tomorrow. I suggest you begin packing immediately."

A general cry of outrage rang through the tower.

"_Enough!_" McGonagall shrieked again, gaining quiet instantaneously.

"What's happened, Professor?" Alicia Spinnet asked nervously.

McGonagall sighed. She had intended on taking the Weasleys aside for a private word first, but perhaps it would be best to simply state it for all to know at once. She was unsure whether she'd be able to repeat the tale a third time. "A student, one of our very own House, has been taken down into the Chamber," she said, her voice cracking slightly.

The effect was immediate. Students began running about to find their friends and roommates. McGonagall simply waited, unable to muster up enough voice to call for quiet once more.

"Fred!" Percy yelled. "George! Ron! Ginny!"

"I'm here, George is here, there's Ron," Fred said anxiously.

"Where's Ginny?" George asked, spinning around madly.

"Ginny!" Percy shouted. "_Ginny!_ Where are you? This isn't funny!"

"Professor," Fred began, looking the most serious his professor had ever seen him.

"Who is it?" George asked hoarsely.

McGonagall pursed her lips momentarily and took an unsteady breath. "Ginny," she managed.

"No!" Fred, George, and Percy said at once.

"No, that can't be right!" Percy shouted.

"One of the girls go check her room!" Fred desperately suggested.

McGonagall looked sadly at Ron, who sat with Harry at the back of the common room, staring blankly at the floor. "I wish I could tell you differently," she said. She took a deep breath in. "Pack your things," she told the room at large. "You'll be going home first thing tomorrow morning." She turned and exited the common room.

The second the portrait hole closed behind her, McGonagall knew there was something she dreaded more than telling the rest of the Gryffindors that Ginny was missing, and that was telling Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. With heavy steps she made her way up to Dumbledore's office; Fawkes would carry messages far faster than any owl the school possessed.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

-stalks off muttering darkly about horcruxes-

Review, por favor!


	30. Chapter 30

_**THIRTY**__**– The Chamber of Secrets, the Heir of Slythein, Dobby's Reward**_

McGonagall had sent Fawkes off first with a note to the Ministry, then one to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. She awaited the bird's return with a note for Dumbledore anxiously. Finally, the creature arrived in a burst of flame.

"There you are!" she said impatiently. "Come here, I've still got one more for you!"

Fawkes looked at the woman he saw so often quizzically, as though he'd never met her, and then flapped his wings, pulling himself several feet into the air before beginning to fly circles around the office.

"Fawkes!" McGonagall shouted. "I'm sending you to Albus with this one! You can bring him back! Come down here, you blasted bird!"

Fawkes only sang a single, rather unpleasant note in response and continued to fly circles.

McGonagall huffed, crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "I've got to get this out before the Weasleys arrive, and they'll be here any moment! This isn't a time for games! You can fly circles to your heart's content _after_ you get this note to _your owner_!"

Fawkes suddenly dove at a shelf and pulled back up with the Sorting Hat clutched in his claws.

"Fawkes, no!" McGonagall shrieked as the creature disappeared in a burst of flame. Beside herself with worry and fear, she grabbed a silver ornament off Dumbeldore's desk and hurled it at the wall opposite her. It hit with a satisfying sound and shattered into countless pieces.

Without Fawkes to assist her, McGonagall flew out of Dumbledore's office and sprinted down to the owlery. Her speed made her surroundings seemed rather blurred, but she still managed to catch sight of Flitwick standing guard in the hallway that lead to the Ravenclaw common room. "Wait for the Weasleys at the gate," she barked rather rudely, hardly caring.

Once in the owlery, McGonagall summoned her own bird down. It looked harshly at her, expecting some sort of treat for obeying its command so quickly, but its owner hardly seemed to notice. "Dumbledore, you know where he is," McGonagall said sharply. Her bird blinked at her. "Go on, move it!"

Hooting indignantly, the owl spread its wings and flew away.

Flitwick met McGonagall half way across the lawn. "They're here," he said.

McGonagall nodded. "Where did you send them?"

"Your office," Flitwick said. "Poor Molly looks _awful._ I wouldn't leave them long."

"I – _ALBUS!_" McGonagall shouted with a whole slew of emotions as she spotted the man's long silvery hair and beard. She ran toward him and they met just in front of the school's main doors. Dumbledore did not stop to greet his deputy, merely began the conversation that couldn't wait.

"Eleven of the governors found out about Miss Weasley and asked me back," Dumbledore explained quickly to satisfy McGonagall's curiosity. "Now tell me all that's happened."

"It's awful, Albus! If you hadn't been – well, never mind that now. Cornelius didn't fill you in?"

"Minerva!" Dumbledore said rather harshly.

"Ginny Weasley's been taken into the Chamber!" McGonagall supplied automatically. "There's another message under the first – and I found her books there – and we don't know – students being sent home tomorrow – Lockhart might be – and chaos!" McGonagall ceased making sense.

Dumbledore put a firm hand on his deputy's shoulder, finally stopping in the hall only yards away from her office. "The Weasleys are here?"

"Yes," McGonagall said quickly.

"Go get the rest of the family. I think Molly will be greatly comforted by the sight of her sons."

"Weasleys," McGonagall said with a nod, "right!" She dashed off for the Gryffindor common room.

The professor barked the password to the Fat Lady and all but jumped through the portrait hole before flying up the boys' staircase. Not wanting to wake up the other second years, she took half a second to compose herself somewhat before opening the door to the room and stepping in quietly.

Dean Thomas snoozed on quietly, quite unaware of his professor's presence. Neville Longbottom merely breathed heavily while Seamus Finnigan snored loudly and obnoxiously. Had the professor not been so focused, she might have wondered how Seamus's roommates managed to sleep through the ruckus he raised.

McGonagall pulled back the curtains around Ron's bed, already bending down to wake him quietly, but he was not there. Thinking her worn out eyes might be deceiving her, McGonagall ripped back Ron's bed covers, but still there was no red-headed twelve year old boy there. The professor began to panic; no one had been in the common room…. Where was Ron?

She threw open the curtains to Harry's bed, as well. He too was missing. The professor spoke a few rather nasty words under her breath before pulling out her wand and waving it. The bed curtains around the other three boys flew back and the torches in the room burst to life.

"No, Mam, I didn't touch that cake!" Seamus said rather hurriedly, waking up from his dream.

"I am not your mother, Finnigan," McGonagall said sharply.

"Professor McGonagall!" Dean burst, sitting up in his bed.

Neville drew his sheets up to his chin, rather uncomfortable with his professor in the room.

"Where are Weasley and Potter?" McGonagall asked, straight to the point.

"They're not back yet?" Seamus asked. He moved from side to side to look around his professor to check Ron's and Harry's beds.

"Back?" McGonagall asked. "Back from where?"

"Dunno," Seamus said.

"No one bothered to ask," Dean volunteered.

"They left hours ago," Neville said uncertainly, "from the common room."

"They didn't say _anything_?" McGonagall asked desperately.

"Nothing," the three boys chorused.

"You didn't have the sense to find out where they were going?" McGonagall felt her voice rising in pitch and volume as she went on.

"We figured Ron just didn't want to be around everyone, what with – "

McGonagall flew out of the room before Dean could finish his explanation. She hardly touched the stairs as she hurried to the fourth year boys' room, opening the door with a loud bang that caused all the boys to wake and begin muttering. They all shielded their eyes as the torches in their room sprung to life.

"I'm hallucinating," said Fred groggily as he peered around his bed curtains at his professor.

"Whazgoinon?" George asked while yawning simultaneously.

McGonagall darted out of the room without any sort of explanation, leaving the fourth years thoroughly confused. She had forgotten her mission to actually gather the rest of the Weasleys and was only able to hold herself still long enough to check that they too weren't missing.

Again with a disregard for the noise she was making, McGonagall flung open the door to the sixth years' room.

"Weasley!" she barked.

"Professor McGonagall?" Percy asked, sounding as though he had never gone to sleep. He pulled open his curtains and put his feet on the floor. "Do you need the prefects?"

Satisfied that Percy was where he belonged, McGonagall ran out again, all the way down the staircase, out of the tower, and down to her office.

"Albus!" she exclaimed, throwing open her office door. Breathless, she strode straight past Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to the headmaster at her desk and said as quietly as she could manage, "Ron Weasley and Potter aren't in their beds. They left the common room hours ago and never came back!"

Dumbledore's face fell and he closed his eyes.

"What is it?" Mr. Weasley asked, sounding afraid to hear the answer. "Did you find Ginny? Is she - ?" He was unable to finish his question. Mrs. Weasley gave a loud sob and buried her head in her husband's shoulder.

McGonagall took a few unsteady breaths and cleared her throat. "We – er – don't know where Ron's gone," she said rather quickly.

"_What?_" Mrs. Weasley asked, turning her tear streaked face to look at the professor.

"Ron's not in his bed. He and Harry left the common room hours ago. No one thought to stop them, and – "

Mrs. Weasley released a cry of anguish and hid her face in her husband's shoulder once more.

As though things weren't bad enough, Sprout entered the room and made her way to her colleagues, a wand in her hand that was not hers. "Lockhart's not in his office, but all his things are still there. Filius found this outside – it's his."

"Oh, Albus," McGonagall said faintly as the headmaster took the wand from Sprout. "Fawkes has gone, too. He took the Sorting Hat with him… I was about to send a note off to you when he disappeared."

Dumbledore's expression, rather than becoming more dismal, became perplexed. "Took the Sorting Hat?" he seemed to ask himself. "You may go, Pomona."

Sprout nodded at Dumbledore, gave McGonagall the most sympathetic look she could muster, and avoided looking at the Weasleys as she hurried out of the office.

Mr. Weasley gently pulled his wife off of him. "We'll manage, Molly," he said in a choked voice. "Ron and Ginny are both smart. Wherever they are – " He stopped unexpectedly and did not continue.

"Please, sit," McGonagall requested. She waved her wand and two chairs in her office took place next to each other in front of her fireplace, which burst to life with another wave of her wand.

Mr. Weasley made sure his wife was seated first before lowering himself into a chair. "How did this happen?" he asked no one in particular.

"I can offer you no suitable explanation, Arthur," Dumbledore said somberly. He rose and made his way to the edge of the fireplace, looking into the flames.

"I – I told you that I made arrangements for the Express to come tomorrow morning?" McGonagall asked Dumbledore quietly, standing behind him.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied. "We'll discuss it – "

"Later?" McGonagall finished even more quietly than before. "Albus, there's no point in us just standing here, not since – "

"Fawkes," Dumbledore said.

"I don't give a damn where your bird went, Albus!" McGonagall hissed.

"Fawkes would not have disappeared with the Sorting Hat for no reason, Minerva," Dumbledore came back with. "There is something we're missing, and we won't know it until he returns."

McGonagall seemed to choke for a few moments as she tried to think of something to say, but eventually she gave up. She paced as Mrs. Weasley cried, her husband's hand comfortingly sat on her knee, and as Dumbledore continued to look into the fire. Just as she began looking over Dumbledore's shoulder to see what on earth might be so ridiculously entertaining, the door to her office swung open and Fawkes flew to the headmaster's shoulder.

McGonagall stared in awe at her three students, one of which she had thought was certainly dead. Her concern sky rocketed as she took in their unhealthy appearances. Ron's hands were red, scratched, slightly swollen, and his robes were covered in a heavy sort of dust. Ginny looked weak, pale as a ghost, and she had most definitely been crying. Like his companions, Harry was covered in muck and slime, but, to his professor's horror, he was also sporting a rather unhealthy amount of blood on his robes. Lockhart stood behind the students, but the professor could hardly care less about the insufferable man and barely spared him a glance.

Very suddenly, Mrs. Weasley shouted her daughter's name and flew at the girl along with her husband. The world seemed to unfreeze. McGonagall realized she had stopped breathing when her students entered the room and put a hand to her chest as she desperately tried to regain her breath.

"**You saved her! You saved her! **_**How**_** did you do it?"** Mrs. Weasley asked Harry and Ron.

"**I think we'd all like to know that,"** McGonagall said faintly, not showing the proper amount of interest she felt. How many lives did Potter and Weasley have, for goodness' sake?

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall listened as Harry began spilling out the tales of his activities of the year. The transfiguration mistress felt an enormous swell of anger as the boy mentioned having seen and talked to Moaning Myrtle several times, and how the girl had told _him_, a twelve year old, vital information that led to him very nearly killing himself for the second time of his school career. None the less, she balled her hands into fists and prompted Harry to continue on with his story as he paused. She soon found herself wishing she had not done so as Dumbledore intervened.

"**What interests **_**me**_** most is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently hiding in the forests of Albania,"** said the headmaster as he peered interestedly at the students, awaiting an explanation.

McGonagall felt her lips purse, and not only because Dumbledore had mentioned the name she had grown to fear and hate so much. She had suspected, even fifty years ago, that it had been Tom Riddle, the very boy who ensnared Hagrid, was the one to blame for the Chamber of Secrets. Her friends however, had only laughed at her and told her to shut up, and so she had let her suspicions fade away.

Years and years had passed, and McGonagall had seen Riddle evolve into the dark lord that had taken so much away from the wizarding world. She had been elated to discover the demon was gone, though she hadn't shown it right away, but now she felt a fear beginning to creep through her veins that had not been present since one fateful October night just over a decade ago.

Tom Riddle, the very boy who would become You-Know-Who, had almost returned, flesh and blood? What's more, he had done so by nearly killing one of her students? McGonagall took in a great deal amount of air, puffing up slightly. It would not happen again. She and her colleagues would _not_ have to deal with the daily fear of having to summon students up to their offices to tell them their families were dead. They would not have to worry about sending students off for break, knowing some of them would not return. None of that would happen, because You-Know-Who had not managed to come back.

McGonagall was pulled out of her thoughts by Dumbledore's addresses. She only just noticed that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had left with their youngest.

"**You know, Minerva, I think all this merits a good **_**feast**_**. Might I ask you to go alert the kitchens?"** Dumbledore requested.

McGonagall headed toward the door, then turned back around. Her eyes glided over Harry and Ron, and she rather found herself hoping Dumbledore would punish them if only because they sprinkled enough worry onto the situation of missing Ginny to nearly cause her to have a heart attack. She rather doubted such a thing would happen, but decided she'd at least try to make the boys experience just a bit of the anxiety she had. **"Right. I'll leave you to deal with Potter and Weasley, shall I?"**

"**Certainly,"** Dumbledore answered.

McGonagall was more than a little pleased to see her students look uncertainly at the headmaster. "Good," she thought to herself. "With any luck they'll not try to pull anything like this again next year!"

"_Oh, you know _that _won't happen, Minerva,_" said the ever annoying voice of McGonagall's subconscious. She frowned and picked up pace on the way down to the kitchens.

"Minerva!" Sprout exclaimed, causing her colleague to jump enough that her glasses had to be straightened. "Well, go on! What's the update? Where are you going?"

"Meet me down in the kitchens," McGonagall said. "Get Severus and Filius. I might as well just tell you all at once."

"K – kitchens?" Sprout stuttered.

"Feast," McGonagall called over her shoulder.

Relief flooded through Sprout. A feast meant good news. "FILIUS!" she shouted, hurrying up the closest flight of stairs. "Filius Flitwick! Severus! Where in – "

"No need to shout, Pomona! I'm right here!" Flitwick squeaked loudly as the herbology professor nearly ran him over.

"So sorry, Filius," Sprout said absentmindedly. "Where's Severus?"

As she spoke, Snape came around the corner with Professor Burbage.

"Pomona!" said Burbage anxiously. "You don't have any news, do you?"

"A feast!" Sprout blurted. "There's going to be a _feast!_"

"Well that's good!" Flitwick said happily, clapping his small hands.

"Charity, would you mind finding everyone else? Tell them to get down to the Great Hall," Sprout requested.

Professor Burbage took off, beaming.

"Where's Minerva?" Snape asked.

"Waiting for us," Sprout said. "Come on!" She took off down the hall, her two colleagues in tow.

"Well that took you long enough!" McGonagall exclaimed as her colleagues spilled into the entrance hall. She had already completed the task Dumbledore had assigned her.

"Come on, out with it!" Sprout demanded. "What – ?" The stout witch stopped short, pointing at the giant jewel-filled hourglasses that kept track of house points. Hundreds of rubies were falling into Gryffindor's glass.

An immense smirk formed on McGonagall's face and she turned to look smugly at Snape, who rather looked like he wished to curse Gryffindor's glass open and steal the rubies out of it. "I believe Slytherin is out of the run, Severus," she said.

Snape sneered at the irksome woman before him.

"Where's Ginny?" Sprout asked. "Did we find her? Is she alive?"

"Would you believe that Ron Weasley and Harry Potter went missing too?" McGonagall asked. She seemed to quite enjoy knowing the whole story and teasing her colleagues about it.

Sprout's eyes popped. "No!"

"Is that why we're having the feast?" Snape asked. "Because Potter's gone?"

McGonagall back-slapped Snape's shoulder as though it were a simple automatic response.

"Would you just tell us what happened already?" Sprout asked exasperatedly.

"Potter and Weasley found the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets and went in!"

"NO!" Sprout and Flitwick exclaimed at the same time.

"We searched the entire castle," Snape said skeptically. "Where and how did two second years find it?"

"You've got to be a Paseltongue, which Harry is," McGonagall said, flushed with excitement over a hundred different things. "It's in Myrtle's bathroom!" the smile on her face suddenly faded and her hands balled into fists. "It's in Myrtle's bathroom," she repeated.

"Yes, so they found the entrance and - ?" Sprout prompted.

McGonagall suddenly turned on her heel and left her colleagues.

"Minerva!" Flitwick called.

"Minerva McGonagall! Don't you dare run off without finishing that story! MINERVA!" Sprout shouted, but McGonagall was hardly listening as she entered a corridor and left sight. Sprout spluttered for several moments.

"Albus!" Flitwick called as Dumbledore came into the entrance hall. "Would _you_ tell us what's happened?"

"Minerva didn't finish the thrilling tale?" Dumbledore asked mildly.

"No!" Sprout snapped. "She just ran off after telling us where the entrance to the Chamber is! Would you _please_ tell us?"

Dumbledore suddenly smiled. "Very well, I'll give you the quick story now, but I fear Minerva's about to have quite the outburst, so I'll have to be off shortly." He launched into the story, much to Sprout's relief.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Whew! That's one long chapter! After all that hard work a nice, cool, refreshing review sounds pretty good!

...What? You want me to say something about "quite the outburst" coming? Or maybe that thought hadn't really crossed your mind but now it has... Oops. Terribly sorry. ;)


	31. Chapter 31

_**THIRTY – ONE – Dobby's Reward**_

McGonagall burst into the girl's bathroom on the second floor, her face blotched red, her eyes narrowed, her lips practically invisible, her breathing heavy, her hands twisted into such tight fists her nails had almost torn through her skin.

"You foul, abominable, loathsome, evil, scheming, horrible, cruel, selfish, plotting _bitch!"_ McGonagall shrieked as she stomped across the bathroom. She stood in front of the sinks, facing the stalls, waiting.

"_Excuse me?_" Myrtle asked, floating through the door of her stall, her cheeks flushed an angry pearl.

McGonagall noticed a few slimy and bloody footprints on the floor of the bathroom. This did not improve her mood in the slightest. "All this time?" she continued to shout. "You _knew_ all this time and didn't say _anything_!"

"You never asked, Minerva," Myrtle said haughtily, "accidentally" flashing a rather offensive hand signal as she rubbed her face thoughtfully.

"_I DID ASK!_" McGonagall yelled at the top of her voice. "I came in here on more than one occasion and asked you if you'd noticed anything odd!"

"I hadn't," Myrtle said indifferently.

"Don't lie to me!" McGonagall yelled. "A basilisk popped out of one of these sinks at least four times this year and you _didn't notice_? You didn't hear anything? You didn't notice that, for once, someone was actually coming in here?"

"My bathroom was a rather popular hub this year, Minerva," Myrtle sneered. "Harry and his friends came in here a lot." She looked far too pleased about Harry coming in regularly.

McGonagall spluttered senselessly for a moment. "You knew Potter, Weasley, and Granger were brewing Polyjuice?"

"I wondered what they had a cauldron in here for," Myrtle said mildly.

"You _awful _person! Any of those victims could have _died! _Harry and Ron could have been killed! Ginny Weasley could have – "

"Oh, she was in here a fair few times this year as well," Myrtle said, a rather evil smile gracing her ugly features.

McGonagall lost it at that. She threw her fist at a mirror and seemed to neither notice nor care that blood was dripping out of her hand. "The school nearly closed!" she snarled. "You could have stopped it by telling us what you knew, but you didn't! You just wanted someone to die in hopes they'd haunt this bathroom with you, didn't you?"

Before Myrtle could respond, the door to the bathroom opened again and Dumbledore walked in. "Minerva," he said. He looked at her hand and, without seeming at all surprised, waved his wand and healed it. "I thought I might find you here. The feast will be starting soon." He looked between the witch and the ghost, both of whom had livid faces.

"She _knew_!" McGonagall shrieked, pointing at Myrtle. "She knew the whole time! She knew Ginny was coming in here! She knew Harry, Ron, and Hermione were brewing something! She knew Harry and Ron came in here and went down into the Chamber! She _knew_ and she said _nothing_!"

"Miss Granger and Mr. Creevey are awake," Dumbledore said.

McGonagall threw one last look of purest hate at Myrtle, but when she looked back at Dumbledore it was with relief, and she ran out of the bathroom.

Dumbledore looked over his glasses at Myrtle. "I don't think I can pretend I'm not disappointed, Myrtle."

"Maybe if _dear _Minerva had asked nicely I would have said something," Myrtle said, looking at Dumbledore uncaringly.

"Minerva was not the only one who came to you looking for answers," Dumbledore said patiently, though his eyes looked far from their usual calm. "Pomona told me she came in a few times as well. I believe I even came to you at one point, did I not?"

"_I'm_ not a criminal," Myrtle said defensively. "_I _didn't do anything!"

"That," Dumbledore said rather coldly, "is exactly my point."

* * *

><p>McGonagall positively flew back into the entrance hall. Flitwick and Sprout were already joyously greeting their revived students. She ran straight to the members of her own house. "Hermione! Colin! Sir Nicholas!" she said, unable to keep back a grin. She barely restrained from hugging her beaming students.<p>

"Minerva!" Nearly Headless Nick said cheerily. "How good it is to be back!"

"It's good to have you all back," McGonagall said sincerely.

"Professor," Hermione said, interrupting. "Where's Harry?"

McGonagall had expected Hermione would ask about Ron, too, but noticed with a slight shock the red head was standing behind his friend.

"Professor Dumbledore's likely sent him somewhere," McGonagall said. "What are you doing down here, Weasley?"

"Professor Dumbledore had me bring Lockhart up to Madame Pomfrey," Ron explained. "Hermione was just waking up by that point, so…" he trailed off awkwardly.

"What's happened to Lockhart?" McGonagall asked curiously.

"He – er – tried to cast a Memory Charm on me and Harry with my wand, but it sort of back fired," Ron admitted.

McGonagall restrained from laughing with great difficulty as she pictured the joyous prospect of a Gilderoy Lockhart that did not brag of his own deeds, or really speak at all. After swallowing to keep herself from snorting she continued, "His Memory Charm backfired? He tried to wipe your memories?"

"He said he's good at them." Ron suddenly poked Hermione in the shoulder. "I _told_ you he was worthless! He didn't do anything he wrote about! He found the people that did, got the stories out of them, then wiped their memories! And _you_ wrote him a note on Valentine's Day!"

Hermione's face flushed bright red and she hid it in her hands.

"I _knew_ it!" Sprout exclaimed. The Gryffindors jumped; they hadn't noticed they were being listened to. "I _knew_ he was a fr – "

"Happy though we are to see our students revived," Dumbledore said, striding into view, "might I ask the Heads of house to go wake the rest of their students?"

McGonagall smiled again and headed up the stairs with Flitwick while Sprout and Snape disappeared downstairs.

"It's all over, Minerva!" Flitwick said joyously. "All over!"

"Now we just have to deal with whatever's in store next year," McGonagall said, only half joking. Flitwick laughed all the same. The two professors split at the fifth floor and continued on to their separate destinations.

McGonagall took great joy in going from room to room, demanding the students get up with the most utterly serious look on her face. Only once all of her Gryffindors were gathered in the common room, anxiously checking around to see if anyone else was missing, – the three older Weasleys each had their own episode upon failing to see Ron – did McGonagall crack a smile.

"I've good news," she announced.

"Where's Ron?" Fred shouted.

"Did you find Ginny?" George asked.

"Your brother is already down in the Great Hall with Miss Granger and Mr. Creevey," McGonagall said, pleased with the joyous cries that came upon hearing that Hermione and Colin were out of the hospital wing.

"How come Ron got to go see Hermione before anyone?" Seamus asked indignantly.

"Where's Harry?" Neville asked, looking around.

"Forget Harry, he was with Ron," Fred said.

"Where's Ginny?" George insisted.

"Your sister is in the hospital wing with your parents," McGonagall said.

Percy, Fred, and George shouted out and ran through the portrait hole before anyone could stop them.

"Pity they'll miss the most thrilling part of the story," McGonagall said dully.

"Go on, Professor!" Lee Jordan encouraged.

"The Heir of Slytherin and his monster have been defeated, once and for all," McGonagall said. "The Chamber of Secrets is closed. We're celebrating down in the Great Hall with a feast. Come along!" She refused to answer any more questions and simply led her very chatty house down to sit at their table and gossip away happily. Many stopped to greet Hermione, Colin, and Nick.

Hagrid entered the hall to loud applause half past three and very nearly crushed Harry and Ron against their table as he thanked them. He was enthusiastically welcomed to the staff table and began to regain some of his normal color as he ate a decent meal.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said a short later, "would you like to make an announcement to the students for me?"

McGonagall looked at Dumbledore with a raised eyebrow. "And what announcement is that?"

"Considering recent events, and that several students have been out of the classroom for a great potion of the year, I think it only fitting that a lack of exams – "

McGonagall stood up before Dumbledore wrapped up his thought and called for attention. "In light of this year's events – and I know you'll all be ever so disappointed to hear – all exams have been cancelled!"

The students erupted in a deafening cheer. As McGonagall sat down, Dumbledore stood up. It took longer than usual for the students to quiet down for him.

"I've an announcement as well," he said, a rather serious look on his face. "It is an unfortunate truth that Professor Lockhart lost his memory a few hours ago, and as such he will be unable to return next year – "

Dumbledore was drowned out by more joyous shouts and enthusiastic applause. He smiled and shook his head slightly as he realized nearly a quarter of the noise was coming from his staff.

"You kept the best announcement for yourself!" McGonagall said accusingly, though she smiled.

Dumbledore's eyes only twinkled in response as he put more food onto his plate.

"No more _Witch Weekly's_ Most-Charming-Smile Award updates, eh, Minerva?" Sprout said, elbowing the transfiguration teacher as she clapped loudly.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Aww... No more Lockhart... Let's not lie. I'm kind of sad. He was fun to write. -shrug- Oh well. The show goes on!

5...4...3...2...1...LIFT OFF... I mean, REVIEW!


	32. Chapter 32

_**THIRTY – TWO - Dobby's Reward**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Fltiwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p>Back to normal! Oh, how I love it!<p>

_Did you hear the marvelous news?_

That the Chamber of Secrets is done for once and for all? I thought you knew that before I did, Minerva!

_Ha ha, Pomona! No, really, have you heard?_

_Heard what?_

_LUCIUS MALFOY'S BEEN SACKED AS A GOVERNOR!_

NO! That's WONDERFUL! Serves the slick git right!

_What say you, Severus?_

_**You think I'm pleased he managed to push Dumbledore out of here when we needed him most?**_

Look at that! Don't let Lucius find out that's how you feel about his being sacked! Oh, Merlin! I can't stop laughing!

I think you'd be interested to hear another bit of news about the Malfoys.

_Anything for more laughter at their expense._

They no longer have a house elf.

Oh, what poor creature had to serve them?

The elf's name is Dobby.

And the Malfoys freed him?

Not willingly.

_What's that mean?_

Mr. Potter is quite the clever child. 

_What's he done now?_

He tricked Lucius into giving Dobby a sock, and so the elf was freed.

_HA! Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Lucius! _

_**I most sincerely doubt he can hear you, Minerva.**_

_You think I care if he can hear me? The fact that he and his family will actually have to lift a few fingers to get something done around their house warms me to the core._

_**If the world only knew the real Minerva McGonagall… how differently they'd look at Hogwarts. **_

_Don't get me started on you, Severus!_

_You know, maybe now after very nearly losing seven students total this year, all will be well next term._

I sincerely d – 

_No, no, no, no. We're having the summer to think happy thoughts before you burst our bubbles, Albus._

_**I would have thought nothing was capable of "bursting your bubble". **_

_Why? Because my students found out the Chamber of Secrets and I've got the House Cup for another year and because Lucius Malfoy can't interfere at Hogwarts anymore?_

_**Speaking of your students, I believe you owe me an apology.**_

_Pardon me?_

_**Were they or were they not brewing Polyjuice?**_

…

_**Exactly! I told you, again, and you didn't listen, again.**_

_You know, I've been wondering about that a bit myself. Exactly what are you teaching those children, Severus?_

_**Pardon?**_

_They were able to brew such an advanced potion, and as second years. I might also ask what this says about your teaching methods… clearly they're very talented and yet you constantly make them out to be the dumbest children ever to roam these halls._

_**You're not turning this on me!**_

Oops! Too late.

_Come on, Severus. Explain to me how Potter has such a low grade in your class when he managed to at least assist with making Polyjuice._

_**The boy's got no talent at Potions!**_

_Weasley, then?_

_**Only slightly less of a disaster than Potter.**_

_Granger!_

_**Clearly the mastermind of the plot, she seems the only one of them with any amount of sense.**_

_She's got a great deal of sense! She's the one that figured out it was a basilisk in the Chamber, after all. _

_**You're only strengthening my point that Potter is by no means above average.**_

_How's that?_

_**Granger's the one pulling all the strings.**_

_Granger finds the pieces, Potter puts them together. He's VERY intelligent!_

_**What's Weasley do, then?**_

_Weasley's got plenty under his belt. A person's nothing without support and back up._

_Have we argued enough yet?_

_No._

_Topic change! Summer!_

_I don't think it works like that, Filius._

_Sure it does. Plans, Pomona?_

Reversing the wrinkles the Chamber caused me.

_**Thrilling.**_

How long do you think you'll stay away this summer, Minerva?

_Not on about THAT again, are you, Pomona?_

Come on, you lasted a whole week and a half away from Hogwarts last summer! How long do you think you'll manage this time?

_I'm not coming back until August, now leave me be!_

Oh, no you don't! That's what you said last year!

_ALBUS! I've just had a fantastic idea._

Is that so?

_Yes! I'm coming up to your office now._

What? No! You can't come up with a great idea and then run off without telling the rest of us!

_Yes I can._

No you can't!

_Consider it punishment for teasing me._

So if this is what I get for a bit of teasing… Severus, what do you think you owe Minerva after all these years?

_**I think she's racked up a consequence too great for words by now.**_

That's what I was thinking too. Have you any plans?

_**I'm not so petty, Pomona.**_

HA! Don't make me laugh. Come on!

_**Enjoy your summer, Pomona.**_

Fine. Be that way. You know what? I WILL have a good summer! So there.

_You tell him, Pomona!_

I don't appreciate your mocking me, Filius.

_Was I mocking you?_

Were you?

_That's for me to know and you to find out._

I'm done with the whole lot of you. See you next year!

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Sorry to burst your bubble. I said done with Lockhart, not with second year! Now we are OFFICIALLY moving on to Prisoner of Azkaban. Huzzah!

I also apologize... no, I'm not apologizing. My explanation for not updating in ten days is that I have not had time to eat properly, much less sit down and sort out an update. Let's be perfectly honest, it'll probably be another 10-14 days before I get the chance to update again. Darn life obligations getting in the way of my fun...

Review!


	33. Prisoner of Azkaban

_**THRITY-THREE – Aunt Marge's Big Mistake**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p>Have you seen? Have you SEEN?<p>

_Seen wh – _

The papers! How could you not have seen?

_I've been bu – _

SIRIUS BLACK'S LOOSE!

_WHAT?_

It's all over the place, has been for hours! Do you live under a rock?

_No, I live IN one known as Hogwarts. What happened?_

_**No Ministry connections are sending you – **_

_DON'T push me, Severus!_

No one knows what happened! All that's known is that he managed to escape Azkaban!

_That must be a mistake… Azkaban… you can't get out of there!_

Well he was there last night, and now he's gone!

_Oh, great Merlin's beard…_

What?

_He'll be off to finish what he started…_

You're not making much – Oh, no! Finding his master?

_No, finishing his master's work! He'll be after the last Potter! ALBUS!_

Yes, I've heard.

_Let me go check on him._

Beg your pardon?

_Potter! Let me go check on him!_

Absolutely not.

_Albus! Sirius Black – it won't take him long to find Potter, and if he does – Let me!_

The Ministry – 

_Hang the Ministry! They're the ones that let Black escape in the first place! For all we know, Black's there already! He was James's best friend, after all. He'd certainly have known where Lily's family lived. _

_**Perhaps it would be a good idea to station Minerva at the Muggles' house.**_

…_Who are you and what have you done to Severus Snape?_

_**If Black were to show up, she would certainly do the world a favor and finish him off quickly before he caused any more trouble, though I can't pretend I wouldn't owe him if – **_

_You're on a good note, Severus, don't ruin it._

_Just a walk around the neighborhood, Albus, really! We'd be fools NOT to check on the boy! Black's smart, he'll know that the longer he waits to try to get the boy, the less likely he is to be successful, and he'll know it'll be damn near impossible to get him once he's back at Hogwarts._

Cornelius has sent – 

_Black would recognize someone from the Ministry in an instant! We're only putting them at risk by sending them to Little Whinging. I, on the other hand, am quite good at disguise and Black would be far slower at recognizing me for what I am._

Arabella Figg is keeping an eye on Mr. Potter, Minerva.

_Arabella? She's a Squib! What good's she going to do if Black DOES show up? She won't be able to get news to anyone fast enough. By the time she informs anyone Black will have killed Potter and his relatives!_

I quite agree. Eyes need to be kept on that boy.

_He is, sadly enough, our best bet at finding Black and recapturing him. Black is, as Minerva said, very intelligent. He'll know how to get around the Ministry officials that might be strolling around. A quick check in can't hurt, Albus._

-sigh- It seems a mutiny has been staged against me.

…_Is that a yes?_

No.

_Infuriating old man! Why not? _

There's enough to do here at Hogwarts now. I'm afraid I must summon you all back early. There are going to be a few changes in security this year, and I think we best all prepare for them.

What kinds of changes in security, Albus?

We'll have a meeting as soon as everyone arrives to discuss it. 

_The Ministry's going to be adding things, aren't they?_

Cornelius has expressed a wish to have a hand in reinforcing security. 

How much more secure can Hogwarts get?

_I'm sure we'll find out tomorrow._

* * *

><p>The Hogwarts staff sat at a single large, circular table in the Great Hall. Their usual venue of the staffroom had been abandoned owed to their expectation of several guests, including the Minister himself.<p>

Sprout sat down heavily next to McGonagall. "Sibyll won't come down," the herbology professor said agitatedly.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" McGonagall sighed. "She's got to be here for this, much as I may not like to say it."

"_You_ go get her then," Sprout said.

"You live only to annoy me, don't you, Pomona?"

Sprout made an odd noise that was a combination of a scoff, cough, and sigh.

McGonagall rose from her seat unwillingly. "If I'm not back in twenty minutes – "

"I'll come prevent you from committing murder," Sprout said rather conversationally.

McGonagall began the ridiculous journey to Trelawney's classroom, where the woman was undoubtedly going berserk with her various worthless toys. The sensible transfiguration mistress drew her wand after climbing a massive tightly spiraled staircase and pointed it at a trapdoor. The door opened and a silver ladder fell out of it.

"Sibyll?" she called as she climbed rather awkwardly out of the hole in the floor and rose to her feet. She was quickly overwhelmed by the various perfumes Trelawney had poisoned the air with and was only barely able to resist putting her sleeve to her nose and breathing through the fabric to filter out the obnoxious smells.

"What brings you up to my tower, Minerva?" Trelawney asked, only half concealing her displeasure under her absurd front.

"Your Inner Eye didn't reveal that to you already?" McGonagall quipped. Trelawney frowned as McGonagall tried not to smirk. "Perhaps you missed the fact that there's a mandatory staff meeting taking place very shortly?"

"I have already foreseen the new sec – "

"Sitting through the meeting with the rest of us will not harm you, Sibyll. Come and join your colleagues, please," she said the last word rather unwillingly through her teeth, but it was the trigger word she had needed.

"Very well," Trelawney sighed. "I will descend into – "

"Yes, thank you kindly. We best be on our way, the Minster will be here any moment," McGonagall said shortly. She was quite pleased to re-enter the Great Hall and sit again in her seat between Sprout and Snape.

"How on earth did you manage that?" Sprout asked, mouth slightly agape as she watched Trelawney lower herself rather clumsily onto a bench.

McGonagall shook her head and began massaging her temples. "That room gives me a head ache."

"Are you sure it's the room and not it's inhabitant?" Sprout asked.

"It's hard to have one without the other," Snape said lowly. "We may never know."

Dumbledore walked through the doors with Fudge before more was said. The two took the seats left for them. Fudge looked at Dumbledore and gestured to the table at large.

"Doubtless you have all heard the devastating news of Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban," Dumbledore began. "It is only fitting that security measures be increased at Hogwarts until he is recaptured."

"He looks a lot less happy than he did earlier today," Sprout commented quietly to McGonagall, nodding at Dumbledore.

"He does," McGonagall sighed, noticing the cold glint in the headmaster's eyes.

Fudge sighed and seemed to brace himself for an assault of some sort. "It is the belief of the Ministry that Black is on a mission to finish what You-Know-Who started. We believe he is after Harry Potter."

"We figured that much out for ourselves, oddly enough," McGonagall dully commented. Only Snape and Sprout were able to hear her.

The entirety of the staff seemed rather unsurprised, which seemed to disappoint Fudge in a strange way. "It would be foolish to think that, impenetrable as Hogwarts may be, Black will not try to get onto the grounds, and as such," – here Fudge faltered and began playing with his lime green bowler – "it has been decided that dementors will be placed at every entrance to the grounds in an effort to prevent Black – " Fudge was drowned out by the objections of the staff.

"Dementors?" Madame Pomfrey called. "At _Hogwarts_? This is a school, Cornelius! It's full of innocent children, and you wish to bring those foul creatures here?"

"The dementors are merely an extra precaution to _protect_ the students, Poppy," Fudge said smoothly.

"Black has already slipped past the dementors once," Snape coldly pointed out. "It seems to me you think us professors incapable of protecting the school ourselves."

"Not at all, Severus," Fudge said quickly.

As the Minister continued trying to pacify the staff, McGonagall looked sharply across the table at Dumbledore. "Dementors?" she mouthed disbelievingly.

Finally, Dumbledore raised his hand and called for silence. "The dementors will remain along the boundaries of Hogwarts and will not come onto the grounds unless ordered."

"What about Hogsmeade?" Flitwick asked. "Or when the students arrive? They'll all have to pass the dementors!"

"Those _things_ aren't going to just leave the children alone," Sprout said. "They're greedy, and combined with them not having the prisoners of Azkaban to feed off of - "

"They have been given the strictest orders," Fudge tried to reason. "I'm not thrilled with the idea of them being here, either, but – "

"Are there any other points you wish to bring up, Cornelius?" Dumbledore politely interrupted.

"No," Fudge said. "As a matter of fact, I best be off to Hogsmeade."

"Then Minerva will show you to the door," Dumbledore said, gesturing to his deputy.

McGonagall rose and began walking out of the hall without a word. Fudge hurried to catch up.

"Albus, you can't be serious!" Sprout said desperately. "_Dementors_ at Hogwarts?"

"They are stationed to keep Hogwarts safe, Pomona," Dumbledore stated. "They are here, and they will stay. No one is particularly pleased with the arrangement, but if there is a chance that it will keep the students of Hogwarts safe, then so be it. They are rather offended Black managed to escape them and are keen to have him back in their custody."

"Should Black manage to slip past the dementors once more and gain access to Hogwarts, he'll find himself wishing he were back in Azkaban," Snape said, his lips barely moving.

* * *

><p>"You can't permit those things to – What are you smiling for, Albus?" McGonagall asked, quite thrown off her angry rant as she entered the headmaster's office.<p>

"We have a Defense teacher," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"_Who?"_ McGonagall asked eagerly.

"I'm sorely tempted not to tell you," Dumbledore admitted with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

"But you're going to," McGonagall said sternly.

"I think I'll have you guess," Dumbledore said, grinning once again. "And yes, I know I'm an infuriating old man."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow at Dumbledore as she sat in the chair across his desk.

"Humor me," Dumbledore requested after a moment of being viciously, and silently, stared down.

McGonagall sighed irritably. "Mundungas Fletcher."

"Be serious now," Dumbledore said, looking at his deputy over his glasses.

"I will be if you start," McGonagall said sharply.

"I was perfectly serious when I said I would have you guess at who I've hired."

"Hint," McGonagall demanded.

"If you're being _that_ uncooperative," Dumbledore sighed.

McGonagall relaxed, thinking she had worn Dumbledore's resolve and he would simply give her the name.

"Severus won't be pleased."

"No, you're supposed to tell me the name now," McGonagall said.

"What fun would that be?"

"Fine!" McGonagall fumed. Her face suddenly brightened. "You didn't!"

"Didn't what?" Dumbledore asked, though the strength of his smile had been renewed.

"You hired Remus!"

Dumbledore tapped his nose. "Right on the dot."

"When's he coming?" McGonagall asked eagerly.

"I've asked him to come on the train," Dumbledore answered. "Someone ought to be on there to keep an eye out for Black. The Express is an opportunity for him."

Quite abruptly, McGonagall's face clouded over. "There's going to be concern, you realize? Lupin and Black having been such friends in school…"

"Remus will, I'm sure, come to prove his loyalty to us very quickly. I think the only one we'll have trouble with – "

"Is Severus," McGonagall finished. "Of course." A smile graced her features once more. "Let me tell him."

"Severus? Do try not to be smug about it."

"Are you suggesting I'd purposefully make Severus's life unpleasant?" McGonagall queried as though injured. "Who do you think I am, Albus?"

"Don't get me started on that topic, Minerva."

McGonagall left Dumbledore's office soon after in search of the potions master, such a smile on her face a student might have fainted at the unfamiliar sight. "Severus!" she called, entering the man's office.

"After all these years I thought you had learned to knock, Minerva," Snape said in his usual unhappy voice as he examined several flasks on his desk.

"You'll never guess who Albus has gotten to teach Defense," McGonagall said, leaning against a shelf. She wrinkled her nose momentarily at a slimy something suspended in green liquid sat unpleasantly at her eye level.

"You're right," Snape said, "because I am not going to humor you by guessing."

"Oh, come on, Albus made me guess!"

Snape began to ignore McGonagall.

"Fine!" McGonagall burst. "Remus John Lupin."

Snape very nearly dropped the vial he was holding as he turned sharply to look at the transfiguration professor. "_Now_? When his old friend is on the loose, bound to start another blood bath?"

"You can go argue the appointment if you'd like," McGonagall said with a shrug. "I don't think it'll do you much good, though."

Regardless of his chances, Snape swept out of his office, robes billowing behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Drama, drama, drama. And the school year hasn't really even started yet. -sigh-

For every review you leave I will... be really grateful and smile?


	34. Chapter 34

_**THIRTY FOUR – Aunt Marge's Big Mistake**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p>Still no sightings of Black! Where on earth could he be? You haven't heard anything from someone inside the Ministry, have you Minerva?<p>

_Other than they haven't got a clue, no. _

He can't simply VANISH!

_He can if he's hiding out in a Muggle neighborhood._

My answer is still no, Minerva.

_Just a walk around – _

No!

_He hasn't been spotted anywhere, and Muggles won't know to look for him!_

I think you'll find they do.

…_What?_

Black's in their news, as well.

_Oh, wonderful. Have the Muggles keep an eye out for a dangerous escaped wizard that'll kill them without a second thought if he thinks they recognize him! Brilliant! _

Probably kill them for the fun of it, just because they're Muggles.

_You know, Albus, Black would probably take out Arabella before he moved on to get Potter. He knows she's there, after all, and he would know that you've asked her to keep an eye out._

_**Have you ever realized how manipulative you are, Minerva?**_

All women are manipulative, Severus. That's how we always end up winning.

_**There are so many ways I could refute your statement I can't think which point to bring up first.**_

_Black may have already done Arabella in, Albus. We'd really not know. The Ministry wouldn't think to check on her, after all. She doesn't leave her home very often and she's not terribly sociable. It might be days before her neighbors notice something's not right…_

Are you through, Minerva?

_No. I could keep going if I haven't convinced you yet._

_Everyone else agrees that it'd be a good idea. I wouldn't communicate with Potter, I assure you! A quick walk around, check in with Arabella, look in at the Dursleys, make sure everything's alright, then straight back here._

You have enough to do here, Minerva.

_Do I? I've already done all my lesson plans and gotten all the letters sent out._

You also have to try to get that Time-Turner – 

_A couple of hours away from that isn't going to make my efforts null and void. I'll still get it._

And I have another favor to ask of you.

_I don't accept._

Wouldn't you like to know what it is, first?

_No. It's going to be something that'll take me ages and exhaust me completely so that I won't bother you to let me go check on Potter. I won't do it._

Well as you know, H – 

_I said no!_

Then it's no longer a favor, but a responsibility I'm giving you, regardless of whether or not you wish to do it.

_Infuria – _

Yes, yes, I know. Now, as you're aware, Hagrid's taken Care of Magical Creatures and, as it's his first year teaching, I think it would be a good idea to have his curriculum checked over.

…_You want me to go approve Hagrid's lesson plans?_

Yes.

_He'd listen to you far faster than me!_

I am, regrettably, very busy at the moment.

_Fine. I'll go look over Hagrid's lesson plans, but be forewarned that I will not be in a good mood after doing so._

I expect as much. You start tomorrow.

* * *

><p>"Minerva!" Hagrid warmly greeted the witch stood on his front steps. "Dumbledore said yeh'd be comin' by." He opened his door and let her in.<p>

McGonagall had only put one foot inside before Fang came bounding up to her, but even the boarhound was subject to her stern glare. "Sit!" she ordered the dog. Fang sat, his head hung slightly.

"Let's see your lesson plans, then, Hagrid," she said as she sat down at the table and pulled _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ out of her bag along with some parchment and a quill.

"Fancy a cup o' tea?" Hagrid asked, beginning to busy himself.

"Yes, thank you," McGonagall said politely. She looked at Fang, who was still sitting by the door and looking utterly pitiful. "Oh, come here!" she called, caving.

Fang lumbered over, his tongue lolling out of his mouth stupidly. He set his head on the professor's lap as she scratched behind his ears.

Hagrid set out tea and a few cakes which, from experience, McGonagall had learned to tactfully avoid eating.

"How's things in the castle?" Hagrid asked.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow at Hagrid, not very pleased with the far too formal way he was handling himself. "We've definitely seen better days," she replied. "But I'm sure any holes in your knowledge will be filled in at the staff meetings you'll be attending now."

Hagrid swelled with pride. "Great man, Dumbledore, givin' me the job an' all."

"You know far more about magical creatures than many who would have applied for the job," McGonagall said. "You know why I'm here, Hagrid?"

Hagrid coughed and became intensely concentrated on pouring himself a second cup of tea.

"Where are your lesson plans, Hagrid? Dumbledore said you'd have them ready by now," McGonagall prodded.

"Well I've been a bit busy and haven't had much time ter make plans, ter be hones'," Hagrid mumbled.

McGonagall placed an elbow on the table and was just about to set her face on her hand when a large glob of drool leaked out of Fang's mouth and onto her robes. "Yes, yes, I've pet you enough. Go lay down!" she said in clipped tones.

Fang retreated to a corner of the cabin and flopped down while McGonagall drew her wand to clean off her robes.

"To be clear, you have nothing?" McGonagall asked. Hagrid shifted uncomfortably and the transfiguration mistress sighed. "Alright, we'll start at the beginning, then. Third years. What ideas do you have for them?" She unfurled the roll of parchment she'd brought and set her self-inking quill onto it.

Hagrid's eyes suddenly shone with excitement. "I thought I'd start 'em off with sommat that'd really get 'em interested."

"That's good," McGonagall praised, somewhat apprehensively. Hagrid's definition of "interesting" was rather atypical. "What do you have in mind?"

"I thougt I'd show 'em a griffin," Hagrid said, leaning forward. "A couple of 'em are ou' in the for – "

"Hagrid," McGonagall began as she flipped open _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, "griffins are a level four classification. You can't expect third years to deal with them, especially not on their first class!"

"Wha' am I supposed ter show 'em? Horklumps?" Hagrid asked with a snort.

"Yes, Hagrid," McGonagall said forcefully. "Start them off easy! Some of them haven't seen a real _gnome_ before, you realize?"

"Gnomes?" Hagrid queried, shaking his head. "Nah, they'll see plenty o' _them _in their lives!"

"You're not supposed to entertain them, Hagrid," McGonagall said, already becoming weary. "You're supposed to teach them how to deal with creatures they might encounter, and they'll definitely encounter gnomes! Why _not_ teach the students how to take care of them?"

"Tha's _boring_, Minerva," Hagrid argued. "Can't 'spect the kids to stay interested if – "

"Hagrid!" McGonagall said exasperatedly. "Students aren't going to be interested if they're losing limbs, either!" She paused and took a deep breath. "Alright, come on, give it another try, another creature."

Hagrid thought for a moment. "How 'bout a fire crab?"

McGonagall took off her glasses and rubbed her face, inwardly cursing Dumbledore.

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

How did it go with Hagrid, Minerva?

_I hate you._

That well?

_I absolutely hate you._

I'm beginning to feel a little offended. 

_Not only are you infuriating, you're manipulative._

I'm definitely offended.

What's he done now, Minerva?

"Now"? You make it seem as though I am regularly manipulative.

…Because you are.

_Oh, you didn't see yesterday? He sent me to approve and fix Hagrid's curriculum!_

Merlin's beard! That must have taken all day!

_And we're only just about to start on the fifth years! I'm getting hoarse from arguing so much._

_**After tomorrow you won't be able to speak at all, then. What a pity that will be.**_

_For your own sake, I'm ignoring you._

I must admit you're doing better than I thought you would, Minerva. I'm impressed you got through two classes in one day.

_You really are just trying to keep me busy enough to make me exhausted so that I can't go check on Potter, aren't you?_

How are things with the Time Turner going?

_I'm going to hurt you, Albus…_

That's inadvisable. 

_You think I care?_

_I think you'd best restrain yourself, Minerva. _

_**Imagine if we had to find another Transfiguration teacher…**_

_What a pity that'd be, right?_

_**Quite right.**_

Have we STILL not heard anything about Black?

_Merlin's beard, Pomona! When any of us know something, you'll know!_

Sorry for being a bit anxious about news on him! I'd like to not have dementors flying all over the place with hundreds of children roaming around, wouldn't you?

The dementors will not enter the grounds, Pomona.

I don't trust those things, and with good reason! What makes you think they'll be able to resist coming in here?

_Let's have Severus teach all the classes. That'll create enough misery the dementors will have nothing left here to feed off of._

_**Charming, Minerva.**_

_You know how I try._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Really, I ought to be ashamed of myself for not actually involving Hagrid in a scene until now. -sigh- Oh well.

Yes, I know I ought to be ashamed of myself for not actually involving Lupin in a scene yet, either. Hold your horses. He's coming, I promise.

Reviews make sunshine and rainbows... in my head they do, at least.


	35. Chapter 35

_**THIRTY – FIVE – Aunt Marge's Big Mistake, The Knight Bus**_

"Finished!" McGonagall said, bursting into Dumbledore's office after the fourth day of helping Hagrid. "Hagrid's lessons are all set out, though I will take absolutely no blame if he doesn't stick to the plans." She flopped down in the chair across Dumbledore's desk and awaited his reaction.

"Well done," Dumbledore said, straightening a stack of paper on his desk. "Now you can devote your attention to that Time Turner you've been after."

McGonagall dug her hand into her pocket and withdrew a black bag embossed with gold thread in swirling patterns. "I'm far ahead of you, Albus." She leaned forward, propping her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand. "And now – "

Dumbledore cut his deputy off with a deep sigh.

"He's being far too quiet, Albus," McGonagall said. "If you recall from past experience, that typically means he's plotting something big."

"Sirius Black is on the run from every law enforcement in existence, Minerva," Dumbledore reasoned. "Wouldn't you be keeping quiet?"

"If I were Black I'd be trying to kill my target quickly and quietly, laying in wait for the perfect opportunity," McGonagall argued. "Come on, Albus, really. What do you think I'm going to do? I have no desire to communicate with Potter or to let him know that I'm checking on him. If he knows that we're all frightened Black is after him, he'll start to wonder why, and then before we know it he'll be hunting Black himself. All I want to do is look around and see if Black is staking him out."

"I don't want Black getting his hands on you, either, Minerva," said Dumbledore.

McGonagall scoffed. "We both know I'm perfectly capable of handling myself."

"My answer is still no," Dumbledore said firmly.

"Fine! If you won't let me go, at least give me an update. Has anything happened at Privet Drive?" McGonagall asked.

"Nothing of importance," Dumbledore said. A twinge in his voice made his deputy suspicious.

"What aren't you telling me, Albus?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

"Harry is fine, Minerva," Dumbledore said.

Before anything else could be said, the Minister of Magic burst into the office. "Dumbledore! Ah, Minerva, you're here too? Well, I suppose you'd know sooner or later anyway," Fudge said nervously.

McGonagall looked sideways at Dumbledore, who turned to one of the various portraits hung on the wall, nodded to it, and returned his attention to Fudge as the witch that had been nodded to walked out of her frame. "What is it, Cornelius?" the Headmaster asked politely.

"It's Potter. He's – well, he's not at his aunt and uncle's," Fudge blurted out, beginning to toy with his lime green bowler hat.

"_Not at his aunt and uncle's?_" McGonagall hissed. "What do you mean?"

"He's, er, run away," Fudge said. "We've lost track of him."

"When did this happen?" Dumbledore asked, the twinkle in his eyes dimming considerably.

"About half an hour ago," Fudge answered promptly. "We had a report of accidental magic at his place of residence, so naturally I sent someone out there to look at it and they came back and reported that the boy wasn't there!"

"Minerva," Dumbledore said without looking at his deputy, "go."

McGonagall did not need telling twice. She got up and left the office quickly.

"Really now, Dumbledore, we can handle the boy ourselves – "

"Evidently not, Cornelius," Dumbledore said in surprisingly cold tones, "or you would have no need to be looking for Harry in the first place."

Fudge looked at Dumbledore warily for another moment before leaving.

* * *

><p>McGonagall landed at the end of Privet Drive and positively stormed up to Number 4. She knocked sharply on the door. Petunia answered after a moment. The housewife looked the professor over quickly, took in the robes and hat, and then made to shut the door again.<p>

"I'll get in one way or another, Petunia," McGonagall fumed, "so you might as well just open the door and save yourself some property damage!"

The door opened a crack and Petunia Dursley showed half her face. "How do you know who I am? What do you want?"

"I want to know where your nephew's gone! Now open up!"

"The boy? The boy's gone off. I don't know where he is."

"Your neighbors are starting to look out their windows, Petunia," McGonagall said shrewdly.

The effect of the threat was instantaneous. Petunia opened her door wide and let McGonagall in.

"Is that the boy, Petunia?" Vernon growled. "Boy, you'd better – " He stopped short as he limped into the main hallway, one of his legs bloodied up. "Who the ruddy hell are you?" he asked rudely. "One of his lot, eh? Get out of my house!"

"If by 'his lot' you mean a witch, then yes," McGonagall said coldly. She turned back toward Petunia with indifference to the blood running down Vernon's leg. "Where is your only sister's only son, Petunia?"

Before Petunia could answer, a bulldog came charging around the corner, snarling and snapping. It made to latch onto McGonagall's leg, but she drew her wand and turned it into a stuffed animal with a single twitch. Again with supreme indifference, she pocketed her wand. She stooped down and picked up the transfigured dog to examine it. With a frown, she noted its eyes were still moving. She was angrier than she realized.

"Is this what happened to you, Vernon?" she asked, then tossed him the stuffed animal, which he promptly dropped with a yell of shock and backed away from.

"Who the hell are you?" Vernon bellowed out of fear.

"I am someone you very much do not want to mess with. Now, _where is your nephew?_"

"Ran off!" Vernon blurted. "Not before raising hell, I might add!"

"Raising hell?" McGonagall asked, showing more curiosity than she would have liked.

"Went and blew up Marge like some ruddy balloon!" Vernon shouted.

"Who is Marge?"

"My sister!"

"She likely deserved it," McGonagall said, her nose slightly upturned. "Potter doesn't make unwarranted attacks and accidental magic can only be set off by very strong emotions; I'll just assume the trigger in this case was anger. Where might Harry have gone?"

"I'm not telling you anything until Marge is set right!" Vernon said. He crossed his arms, drew himself to his full height, and wore a small sneer, as though he'd outsmarted the witch before him.

"I think setting anyone left in this house right is far outside my power," McGonagall said with a raised brow and a stern look that caused Vernon's posture to wilt. "I will not deflate your sister, however, if you open your door I think you'll find a few people who will, if only because they are paid to do so."

Casting a terrified glance at McGonagall, Petunia opened her door once more and allowed three people in.

"Professor McGonagall!" Fudge exclaimed, his arm raised as though about to knock and flanked on either side by a member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department. "I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"You're a teacher at that school!" Petunia gasped.

"Yes, marvelous deductive reasoning, Petunia," McGonagall said dully. She turned back to Fudge. "Where did you expect me to be, Minister? Knocking on doors and seeing if anyone had him? Which reminds me…" She looked back at Petunia and Vernon, who had edged toward each other without her notice. "Does Harry have any friends in the neighborhood he might have gone to?"

"He hasn't got any friends at all," Petunia spat. "He's got nowhere to go!"

"And he won't be allowed back here, mark my words!" Vernon added.

Fudge suddenly caught sight of the stuffed bulldog and picked it up off the floor. As he did so, the dog's eyes swiveled on to him. "Merlin's beard!" he exclaimed. "Was this Harry?"

"No," McGonagall answered as she headed toward the stairs. "Be careful, Minister. It bites."

Fudge hardly looked surprised as he set the dog aside. "Well, Mr. Dursley, if you'll show Misters Ficksit and Reepare too your sister, I believe we'll set this all right."

"You don't have permission to go up there!" Vernon shouted after McGonagall as she began to climb upstairs.

"Go ahead and stop me, Vernon," McGonagall called over her shoulder. "And do try not to bleed too much on the carpet, blood's so hard to get out."

"Vernon, Marge," Petunia said nervously before her husband spoke out against McGonagall once more.

With everyone else properly distracted, McGonagall opened the first door she came across to find an absurdly large boy sitting in front of a computer. "You must be Dudley," she said in a thoroughly unenthused voice. "Tell me, which room is your cousin's?"

Dudley turned, looked at McGonagall, and gave an unflattering yelp with a jump to match that caused the chair upon which he sat to collapse. "W-who're you?" he stuttered after a moment.

McGonagall was tired of pointless questions, and so she responded only with a glare that made Dudley attempt to make himself small.

"Which room is Harry's?" McGonagall asked again.

Dudley pointed a shaking finger at the door down the hall from his. Satisfied, McGonagall closed his door and opened the one to which he indicated. The sight appalled her. The room was stuffed with broken toys and electronics. Had it not been for the unmade bed and the floorboards wrenched up from their proper spaces, McGonagall would not have believed that anyone slept in the room.

She stuck her hand into the space beneath the shifted floorboards, but found nothing. She replaced the boards, wondering what had been hidden under them, before moving on to the closet.

It took McGonagall fewer than five minutes to search the room for anything that might have been Harry's, or that might have told her where he had gone. Defeated, she trekked back down to the main floor. Fudge was waiting for her in the entrance hall.

"I have aurors checking through the neighborhood," he informed her. "They haven't found him yet. I'm about to go off to Diagon Alley myself; perhaps he's headed somewhere there."

McGonagall's stomach lurched as she thought of her student tugging his luggage through London, making himself stick out like a sore thumb, while a murderous madman was very much after him.

"He'll only be able to get in through the Leaky Cauldron," she said rather faintly. "Wait there."

Fudge thanked McGonagall and let himself out of the house. As he opened the door, a tabby cat streaked past his legs out into the street. He shook his head at it before walking to the end of the street, turning, and disappearing.

The tabby that had passed the Minister of Magic up was definitely out of the ordinary. A small girl pointed at it with glee and made to pick it up, but the cat gave her such an odd look the girl backed away from it. The feline continued on its course until walking through a cat flap on one of many doors and, with a pop, turned into Professor McGonagall.

"Arabella?" she called through the house. "Arabella!"

Old Mrs. Figg shuffled into the entrance hall of her home. "Minerva! Goodness gracious! Have you found Harry?"

"No," McGonagall said grimly. "I was hoping you or your cats might have seen where he went." As she spoke, a rather ugly spotted creature began to walk circles around her, clearly suspicious. "Half kneazle, aren't they?"

"Yes," Mrs. Figg answered. "The only thing I've got to tell you is when the boy left and what direction he headed, but that's not going to be of much use, not so long after he's gone."

"Arabella!" called a faint voice from the drawing room.

Mrs. Figg abandoned McGonagall in the hallway and went to attend to what had summoned her. The professor followed to find a moving portrait of one of the old Hogwarts Headmistresses waiting.

"Ah!" said the portrait. "I was going to say that Dumbledore wanted you to find McGonagall, but I've no need."

McGonagall stepped up to the portrait. "What's Dumbledore want?"

"He asks that you go out to the Weasleys and wait to see if Harry Potter shows up there," the portrait said.

McGonagall shook her head and thought through what she had seen in Harry's room. "No, tell Dumbledore Harry's been getting _The Prophet_. He knows the Weasleys are in Egypt."

The portrait nodded and then walked out of her frame.

"Would you like some tea, Minerva?" Mrs. Figg offered.

"No, thank you, Arabella. I don't think I could keep it down very well," McGonagall admitted. "Is there nowhere around here that Harry might've gone?"

Mrs. Figg shook her head sadly. "That cousin of Harry's has made sure he hasn't made any friends out here. Straight out demon, that's what that boy is, and soon he'll be too fat to get through doors."

The portrait returned to her frame. "Dumbledore wants you to at least check by the Weasleys', the Grangers', and make a couple of rounds through Mr. Potter's neighborhood."

"Tell him I'll do it and that I'll check in here every hour for a news update," McGonagall said. The portrait disappeared once more.

"You'd better get going, Minerva," said Mrs. Figg after a moment. "Who knows where that boy's gone by now?"

McGonagall nodded, turned back into a cat, and left.

Several hours of scouring through the neighborhoods of Harry and Hermione and staking out the Weasleys' house proved fruitless. For what seemed like the hundredth time, McGonagall returned to Mrs. Figg's house for an update from Dumbledore.

"Come back," the portrait said.

"What?" McGonagall queried.

"Dumbledore wants you to come back," the portrait repeated a little slowly.

"They found him," Mrs. Figg explained.

McGonagall dashed out of the house and disapparated without any further explanation. She landed in front of the gates of Hogwarts, hurried through them, and made a bee line straight for Dumbledore's office. "Where is he?" she blurted as soon as she entered.

"Mr. Potter managed to call the Knight Bus," Dumbledore explained patiently as he poured a cup of tea for himself and one for his deputy. "He took it to the Leaky Cauldron and will be spending the remainder of the summer holidays there."

McGonagall took the cup offered her. Only after sipping it did she realize how hungry she was and took a few pastries, as well. "When did he get there?" she asked.

"About forty minutes ago, completely unharmed," Dumbledore answered.

Satisfied that Harry was safe, McGonagall moved onto the next logical step: anger. "And did he say what gave him the illusion it was a bright idea to run off?" she asked in a tone that suggested a great deal of restrained fury.

Dumbledore smiled amusedly at his friend's drastic change of mood. "Harry thought he'd be in trouble with the Ministry for doing magic outside of school, even if it was accidental. He asked Cornelius if he'd been expelled."

"Expel Harry Potter?" McGonagall asked with a scoff. "Ridiculous."

"Would you care to know what I found ridiculous, Minerva?"

"What did you find ridiculous, Albus?"

"Cornelius reported to me that there was an unfortunate bulldog at the Dursleys that had been transformed into a stuffed animal before Vernon and Petunia's eyes," Dumbledore said. He took a sip from his teacup, looking at McGonagall over it.

"Yes, well, that nuisance was going to bite me," McGonagall said defensively. "What would you have me do?"

"Mrs. Dursley also reported that there were threats of property damage given to her and that her son is currently refusing to leave his room," Dumbledore continued.

"I admit to fault on the first account, but not the second," McGonagall said indifferently. "I didn't do anything to that child, much as I would have liked to."

"His chair's broken. I believe one could consider that property damage."

"He broke it himself! All I did was ask him which room was Potter's."

"Luckily," Dumbledore carried on as if McGonagall hadn't said anything, "Cornelius saw fit to modify the Dursleys' memories to erase any recollection of you from them. It did take him a while to set the dog back straight, however."

McGonagall's lips twitched slightly upward. "Cornelius never was much good at Transfiguration."

Dumbledore looked at McGonagall over his glasses. "You'll be staying in the castle the rest of the summer, I think. You've done enough damage."

McGonagall smirked. "Damage? What damage? There's no evidence to my having done anything."

Dumbledore merely shook his head as a response.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Let's not lie. I really enjoy the last three lines. :)

I'll eat some Halloween candy for you if you review! ...wait...


	36. Chapter 36

Guess who's here!

* * *

><p><em><strong>THIRTY SIX – The Dementor<strong>_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p>Just a few quiet hours left here in the castle…<p>

_Maybe it'll be a quieter year over all. The Weasley twins are, after all, in their OWL year._

I think that's very wishful thinking, Filius. Bright though we know them to be, their records clearly show they haven't got much interest in academics.

_Let's have your fit now, Severus. Come on!_

_**What on earth are you talking about, Minerva?**_

_Lupin's going to be here in a few hours. You're sure you don't want to throw one more fit before then?_

_**I do not throw fits, Minerva, which is much more than you could say.**_

_Are you talking about those abominable Dur – _

I think this conversation is at its end.

_**Yes, best not encourage Minerva to lose her temper again.**_

_You don't have to take your sourness out on me, Severus! It's not going to change anything. If it DOES do anything, it'll only make you more miserable. _

_**I am not ta – **_

_Yes you are!_

Children, children! If you can't think of anything nice to say, then don't say –

_Shut it, Pomona._

_This is shaping up to be a fine year already…_

_Wait until Remus is added to the mix. _

Does Potter know why Black's escaped Azkaban?

No, and I see no reason for him to know at present.

…You're joking, right?

I am most serious.

He's going to be told at some point, though!

_Of course he does. But what sense is it starting his year off on such a bad note when Hogwarts is perfectly safe?_

_**I wouldn't worry so much about Black breaking Hogwarts security as I would about Potter doing so.**_

_You're going to have to explain that one._

_**If the boy finds out that Black's after him, he'll doubtless be off to get Black before Black gets him, thinking that he could take him.**_

_You're a lunatic, you know that, Severus?_

_**Really? Is that why my theories have always been proven correct in the past?**_

_Why would Potter go looking for someone trying to kill him?_

_If Potter finds out why Black's REALLY after him…_

That will certainly be kept quiet. 

_Agreed. I don't care who you are or what your temperament is. If you find out that the man that got your parents killed is out, about, and looking for you, you're going to go find him._

Well, on that happy note, let's get ready for the carriages to arrive, shall we?

* * *

><p><em>Why aren't the students pulling up yet?<em>

_I haven't a clue. The train's never been late before, has it?_

_Albus?_

I'm a curious as you are.

This can't be good.

_Perhaps the rain's causing the delay. I'm sure there's no need to be concerned._

_**Not yet at least.**_

_Must you always be so positive, Severus?_

Look! There! I can see the carriages! They're far off still, but they're coming!

_Then Remus must already be here!_

_**What a joyous thought.**_

_Charming, Severus._

Remus will not be here yet, Minerva.

_Surely he didn't take the carriages?_

I asked him to.

_Oh, for heaven's sake!_

Remus has sent an owl ahead. I think you'd want to see it, Minerva.

_I'll be up in a moment._

No need. I've just sent it down to you.

_NO! FAWKES! Albus! You could have warned me!_

What?

_Fawkes just set a brand new book of mine on fire!_

I apologize. I'll buy you another one. I believe Fawkes is still a bit upset over your insulting him at the end of last term.

_I was distraught!_

That hardly makes a difference to him.

_You and that bird will be the end of me, Albus._

_Did Remus happen to mention why the train was late?_

Yes, he did.

…And are you going to tell us?

I have a feeling Minerva will shortly explain.

Come on now, Albus!

_DEMENTORS ON THE TRAIN? You promised, Albus! You told us they'd stay away from the students!_

The dementors were on the train? What's Fudge playing at?

_This is absurd! Now they've gotten a taste of what the inside of Hogwarts will be like and – _

It will not happen again.

_Damn right it won't happen again! If I catch a single dementor on the grounds…_

…_The carriages are arriving._

* * *

><p>"Who on earth are you looking for, Minerva?" Sprout asked as she stood next to her colleague in the entrance hall. "Remus is right over there, you know."<p>

"Clear off, Pomona," McGonagall said rather rudely.

"Well since you asked so nicely I'll hang around for a while," Sprout huffed, crossing her arms.

"I need to get Granger the you-know-what and have Poppy check Potter over," McGonagall snapped. "You happy?"

"No. What's Potter done now that he needs to be checked over for?"

"He fainted because of the dementors."

Sprout gasped. "He didn't!"

"After all he's been through you're surprised?"

"Does Poppy know that you're planning on her checking over Potter?" Sprout asked.

"No, not yet," McGonagall admitted.

"I'll get her for you," Sprout volunteered.

Sprout left, and only after she was out of ear shot did a thought strike McGonagall. Luckily, Flitwick walked by just at the moment. "Professor Flitwick!" she called.

Flitwick looked at the woman who had called him, was nearly trampled by a sixth year, and hurried over. "Professor McGonagall?" he asked with the proper amount of professionalism.

"I've got to speak to a couple of students, and as such I won't be there for the Sorting Ceremony. Would you mind?"

Flitwick smiled widely. "What an utterly ridiculous question! Have you gotten the Hat yet?"

McGonagall shook her head.

"I'll be off, then!" Flitwick said cheerily.

McGonagall looked across the sea of students, finally spotting her query. **"Potter! Granger! I want to see you both!"** Her two students elbowed their way over along with Ron. All three looked rather nervous, as though they already thought themselves in trouble. **"There's no need to look so worried – I just want a word in my office. Move along there, Weasley."**

McGonagall led her students to her office; Pomfrey arrived just moments later. Potter was most definitely not pleased about being checked over, and after Pomfrey cleared him McGonagall sent him outside, leaving just Granger across her desk.

"You've taken on quite the class load, Miss Granger," McGonagall said, looking at Hermione's schedule.

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said, wringing her hands slightly. "I just don't want to miss out on anything."

"Including Muggle Studies?" McGonagall asked. Confused, she leaned forward slightly on her elbows. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't your parents both dentists?"

Hermione nodded.

"Might I ask _why_ you wish to take that class, then?"

"I just thought it'd be interesting to study it from a wizard's point of view," Hermione said nervously.

"And Diviniation? I don't think it's a class you'd much appreciate," McGonagall continued to try to sway her student.

Hermione looked down at her hands and shifted slightly.

"You're sure you want to take _all_ these classes, Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione nodded firmly. "If it's at all possible, yes."

"Very well," McGonagall said with a sigh. She opened one of her desk drawers and pulled out a black bag with gold thread spreading all over it and withdrew a necklace with a silver hourglass on it out. "Do you know what this is, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked at the necklace quizzically. "A Time-Turner?" she asked. "But how did you ever get one, Professor? I thought – "

"Oh, good," McGonagall said. "You know how difficult it is to procure one. I spent the better half of my summer writing letters trying to get it. You know that this is not a mere trinket or plaything? Meddling with time's a very dangerous thing, Miss Granger. Awful things can happen to those that do mess with it."

Hermione scooted forward in her seat a couple of inches. "Do you mean to say that the Time-Turner's for me, Professor?"

"It is for use of getting to your classes only," McGonagall said seriously. "You are not permitted to use it in order to gain more time to do homework, to study, or to sleep, nor are you allowed to tell anyone that you have it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said eagerly.

"Swear to me you won't tell anyone about the Time-Turner," McGonagall demanded. "Not Potter, not Weasley, not your roommates, no one."

"I swear," Hermione promised.

"Alright, then. One turn of the hourglass will take you back one hour," McGonagall said. "If I were you I'd keep an eye out for places you can use to time-turn and not be found out by your classmates." And she handed the Time-Turner over to a beaming Hermione.

"Thank you, Professor!" Hermione said, throwing the Time-Turner around her neck. "It couldn't have been easy to get it, especially for something like classes. I mean, it would have been far easier to tell me I had to drop some – "

"I think Mr. Potter will be hungry, Miss Granger," McGonagall said, cutting the girl off. "We best get down to the feast."

* * *

><p>"Will there be more Grangers than ought to be roaming around the castle now?" Snape asked as McGonagall took her seat at the staff table.<p>

"I don't know what you're talking about, Severus," McGonagall said airily.

"Oh, please," Snape muttered. "As though you didn't scramble around half the summer trying to get your hands on a Time-Turner!"

"Not when there are students around, I didn't," McGonagall said sharply.

Before Snape could make a rebuttal, Dumbledore rose from his seat and began his annual speech, effectively silencing his quarreling staff members.

"Minerva, will you show Remus to his office after the feast?" Dumbledore asked as he buttered a roll after making his speech.

"Certainly!" McGonagall answered happily. "Unless, of course, Severus would like to," she said, looking at the man on her other side.

"Charming, Minerva," Snape bit back.

"You'll play nicely, won't you, Severus? Or can you not be in the same sandbox with Remus?" McGonagall asked.

"I'm surprised you're not a bit more suspicious of him, Minerva," Snape said coldly.

McGonagall fixed Snape with a harsh glare. "If you're referring to Black, Severus – I may have lost three of my students because of him, but Remus lost his _family_. I have every confidence in him, and that's that."

The Heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin stared each other down another moment before turning their backs and beginning conversations with whoever was on their other side.

At the end of the feast, McGonagall found Lupin and shook his hand with a smile. "Remus!" she warmly greeted. Her smile faltered as she took in the beaten down and shabby appearance of her former student. She was quite discouraged to see that he had more gray hair than she did.

"Professor McGonagall," Lupin said with a grin. "How are you?"

"I've seen better days," McGonagall admitted. "What with the dementors and - Well, we've had happier years."

"Well, well, well," said a cold, sneering voice. "If it isn't Remus Lupin."

"Severus!" Lupin said pleasantly. He extended his hand. "Come on, now. We're colleagues! I'd like to get along."

Snape shook Lupin's hand with an extremely displeased look on his face. "You must be thrilled to be back here. It must remind you so much of your _old friends_."

Lupin's smile faltered. "I figured you'd be suspicious. Allow me to assure you most sincerely that I wish Sirius be caught and thrown back in Azkaban where he belongs."

"Doubtless," Snape said with cold sarcasm.

"You must be tired, Remus," McGonagall said, breaking the stare-off between Lupin and Snape. "I'll show you to your office."

"Thank you," Lupin said, looking away from Snape, his smile returning full force. He followed McGonagall out of the hall and up a flight of stairs while Snape went downstairs. "I trust he'll be suspicious of me all year?"

"I think that's a safe assumption," McGonagall said, the corners of her mouth pulling down slightly, "but enough of that. How have you been?"

"I've seen better days," Lupin repeated McGonagall's own answer. He gestured to his tattered robes.

McGonagall frowned. "Yes, well, you'll be able to fix yourself up soon, I'm sure, and Severus has agreed to brew Wolfsbane for you."

"How much convincing did _that_ take?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't do the convincing. Here we are!" McGonagall said, opening an ordinary door.

"Ah, I remember this room. James gave a marvelous fireworks display here once," Lupin said as he looked around his new office. He then turned back to McGonagall. She held out a black notebook to him.

"I trust you know what this is," she said, raising a knowing eyebrow.

"That note made it to you after all, did it?" Lupin asked with a faint smile.

"It did," McGonagall confirmed.

"Lily's spellwork," Lupin said. "I'm sure she'd be happy to know…" He stopped short and cleared his throat.

"If any of the other staff find out that you stole my Notebook and read it for the better part of your school career," McGonagall began sternly, "I'll have the most marvelous time paying you back for all the wonderful 'gifts' you and your mates left me over the years."

Lupin took the black notebook with a laugh. "It was James that stole the book in the first place," he said.

"And who duplicated it, might I ask?"

"In my defense, I didn't think it'd work," Lupin said.

McGonagall snorted in disbelief. "It's just as you left it," she said before walking out of the room.

Lupin stood alone in his new office, slightly confused. Shaking his head a bit, he turned the notebook over in his hands, then grinned widely. A chunk of the back cover was missing. McGonagall had given him the duplicate he and his friends had made so many years ago. Lupin remembered all too well the night James had accidentally ripped the cover while trying to pry the book open. Sirius had chased him around the common room for a good forty five minutes.

Lupin sighed and his face fell as a terrible ache clawed at his insides. He tossed the notebook aside on his desk and turned his attention to his suitcase sitting in the corner of the room.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

There. I give you Lupin. Are you happy now? Hey, you should let me know in a review! ;)


	37. Chapter 37

_**THIRTY-SEVEN – Talons and Tea Leaves**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p><em>Well, Sibyll's at it again.<em>

Who's dying now?

_Potter._

Oh, well, that's a safe bet on her part.

_**What a remarkable prediction indeed.**_

_I'm warning you, Severus…_

_**Did I say anything, Minerva?**_

_You implied._

_**You read too deeply into things.**_

Really, when you think about it, who else would she pick out? It'd be stupid of her to choose anyone else!

_It's stupid for her to choose anyone in the first place._

Minerva.

_You know my views, Albus!_

And I have no need to hear them again.

**Did I hear correctly when I was told that you showed the third years your Animagus form and they had the audacity not to clap, Professor McGonagall?**

Ah ha! The real reason for your being sour unfolds! Hello, Remus.

_A bit petty of you, don't you think, Minerva? Good to have you back here, Remus!_

_**You certainly do have quite the shallow side, Minerva.**_

_Thanks to all of you. I appreciate your high opinion of me._

_**Going to be all sulky now, Minerva?**_

_You've got no room to talk about sulking, Severus. Who told you anyway, Remus?_

**I've just had Fred and George in my class.**

Please, for the love of all that is magical, do NOT give those two any ideas…

**Oh?**

_**Don't play innocent, Lupin. You know they're trouble makers.**_

**I found them enjoyable.**

_**Doubtless.**_

**They're very smart, at least.**

_That's the unfortunate thing about jokesters. They typically are very intelligent, which just makes them that much more difficult. _

**I'd certainly be interested to learn a bit more about those two.**

Picture you and your three friends squished into two people and you've got the Weasley twins.

**That much trouble, are they?**

_They've even made friends with Peeves._

**Have they now? I had the misfortune of running into Peeves early this morning. He certainly hasn't changed.**

_Did you expect him to?_

**I won't lie… I thought that now, perhaps, with me being a teacher – **

_Don't make me laugh, Remus!_

**Well he listens to you from time to time!**

_Because he knows I'll curse him or call the Bloody Baron if he doesn't._

**How is his Bloodiness? I haven't seen him yet.**

Bloody as ever. Creepy as ever. Why would you WANT to see him?

_On a different note entirely, did anyone happen to see two of Miss Granger at any point in time?_

**See – what?**

_**How silly of us to forget you don't know, Lupin, you having come so last minute to the castle.**_

_Granger's schedule's loaded, Remus. She's taking every class possible, and as such – _

**How's that possible?**

_I was getting to that. She's got a Time-Turner._

_I haven't seen any Grangers at all today._

_You're up and out of the way of everything, aren't you? Pomona?_

Been outside all day.

_Severus?_

_**I saw Granger ducking into a secret passageway on the third floor.**_

_Good. She's finding places to Time-Turn out of the way of everything, then._

_**Have you stopped to think that students might wonder how she manages to be in several places at the same time?**_

_By that time she may have seen some sense and dropped a few classes._

Like Divination, perhaps?

_That'll probably be the first one to go._

_Did I see correctly that she's taking Muggle Studies?_

_Yes._

_But she's Muggle-born!_

_I didn't say there was any sense in it!_

_**I think there's hardly any sense in any Gryffindors roaming about.**_

And you thought that I lived to annoy you, Minerva.

_What have I done? Really, what have I done to make it 'Pick on Minerva' day?_

'_Pick on Pomona' day gets old every now and then. We have to switch things up._

_We'll just have to schedule a 'Pick on Filius' day, then, won't we?_

Oh, that sounds promising.

_You both know I'm clever enough to turn any insult you throw at me back against you._

Arrogant much?

_It's not arrogant if it's true._

Damn Ravenclaw.

* * *

><p><span>Minerva, might I ask what creature you and Hagrid decided on him showing his first class?<span>

_I managed to talk him into diricawls …Why?_

That is definitely not what he ended up showing.

_I told you I wouldn't take any blame for him not sticking to the plan I made with him and I meant it!_

I'm not blaming you, Minerva. Just checking.

_What DID he end up showing?_

Hippogriffs.

_Merlin's beard… Something's gone wrong, hasn't it?_

_**Dreadfully.**_

_Now that I'm thoroughly concerned, would someone be kind enough to – I don't know – tell me what's happened?_

_**Mr. Malfoy was attacked by one of those creatures called Buckbeak.**_

_Oh, no! Hagrid must be awfully upset… Have you gone to see him yet, Albus?_

_**You're concerned for Hagrid?**_

_There is absolutely no way Hagrid didn't tell the class how to avoid upsetting a hippogriff!_

_**Then you're blaming Malfoy?**_

_Yes! I'll admit Hagrid shouldn't have started off with something so dangerous, but – _

Your arguing will accomplish nothing.

_It accomplishes plenty for me! What's more, Poppy would have fixed Malfoy up in a second! What happened to him, anyway?_

_**The hippogriff slashed his arm open.**_

_Merlin's beard… he'll be out to get off of homework with that one. The whole school's about to become Draco Malfoy's slaves. You'd better not cater to him, Severus._

Enough. I am going to go talk to the governors and – 

_What? No! You can't leave Hogwarts, not with Black running amuck!_

I think you're perfectly capable of holding the fort for an hour or two, Minerva.

_Well… alright, but you'd better take one of the secret passageways out of the school! For all we know Black's staking out the gates, waiting for you to leave._

**If I may, Sirius would want to cross you as little as he would Dumbledore.**

_**Still on first name terms with Black, are we, Lupin?**_

**Old habits die hard, Severus.**

_**You've had twelve years, Lupin.**_

_I'm not going to spend this year reliving the seven years of you arguing. Shut up, the pair of you._

You haven't got much room to talk, Minerva.

_Would you quit popping up when I don't want you?_

Exactly what fun would that be?

I'm leaving now, if that interests anyone.

_The sooner Black's caught the better. I hate feeling anxious all the time._

Our current complete lack of knowledge of where in the world Black is suggests we'd better get used to feeling anxious all the time.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I have found the cure to all negativity. It's called "Ain't No Mountain High Enough". If you have not heard this song you must live under a rock and you should look it up immediately. If it doesn't make you smile, I don't think you're human.

I gave you the cure to bad days. I now demand payment in the form of a review. :D


	38. Chapter 38

_**THRITY EIGHT – The Boggart in the Wardrobe**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p>HE'S BEEN SIGHTED!<p>

_Black?_

Who else?

_Where, Pomona?_

Doesn't anyone else read the "Prophet"?

_I'll be starting again soon. Where was Black seen?_

Less than fifty miles from here!

_NO! Albus!_

We knew very well he would try to come here. There's no sense panicking.

_Not yet, perhaps, but if he gets much closer, which he's bound to do…_

_We'll just have to prepare for him, then._

_I'm getting nervous… What if Potter finds out what Black's done? He'll disappear again and that boy's luck's not going to last forever!_

_He hasn't snuck out of the school yet, and it's rather unlikely he'll figure out how to._

_**With the Weasley twins as his allies? Potter's probably been out a dozen times by now.**_

_No one's ever caught the twins sneaking out, Severus, so – _

_**Yet they never seem to run short of Zonko's products, or Honeydukes sweets, or – **_

_Oh, shut up! If it were your students you'd be pulling the same gag I am, except you'd be covering up any and all evidence of their wrongdoing. _

_**I resent that.**_

_Good!_

_Might I try to turn your attention back to the fact that an unstable, murderous lunatic who we know to be after one of our students was spotted not too far away from here?_

Well what can we do that's productive? We've put up more enchantments, the Ministry's going berserk, and those accursed THINGS are lurking along our boundaries.

**Do we have a problem saying "dementors"?**

I don't like them!

**I don't think anyone does, but really, why confuse ourselves by not using the proper name?**

Excellent logic, Remus.

**Thank you, sir!**

Brown nose.

_**Some things never change.**_

_If Remus had been a brown nose my life would have been a lot easier from 1971-1978, most of our lives would have been._

Most?

_I exclude you in that statement._

No! No, not that again! I won't allow that argument to resurface! It's been buried for years now, and that's the way it'll stay! Oh, look at what you've done, Remus!

**I haven't done anything!**

_**Back to your past time of wreaking havoc, are you, Lupin?**_

**I have several things I could retort with, Severus, but I choose not to. If you'll excuse me, I have a class.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Several things you could retort with, but you chose none, eh, Lupin?<strong>_

**I'm sorry?**

_**Don't toy with me! I heard about what you did!**_

_Whatever could you be referring to, Severus?_

Would you quit snorting like that, Minerva? Pince is going to come over here and kick you out if you get snot all over one of her books!

_You'd be snorting if you knew. You'd be rather proud of Longbottom, too, I think. He's found a knack for something other than herbology._

I won't have him sneaking away from me that easy! What's happened?

_Imagine that! Minerva knows something Pomona doesn't._

Can it, Filius. What's happened? Come on, now!

_I think Remus best tell the story, seeing as he was there._

_**Who all knows?**_

_I think the better question is who DOESN'T know, Severus._

Me! I don't know! Tell me.

_Go on, Remus._

_**No.**_

_Pomona will find out soon enough, and the rest of us already know! Come on, I want to hear this story first hand._

**Well…**

Remus Lupin, if you don't tell this story I'm going to come and find you.

**Very well, since you've put my safety on the line.**

That's more like it!

_**That's not very Hufflepuff like, now is it?**_

Nothing's going to distract me, Severus. I'm GOING to be told this story.

**That boggart moved into the wardrobe in the staff room the other day, remember?**

Ha! Yes! Filius nearly –

_You're getting sidetracked, Pomona._

Whatever. I'll make fun of you later. Go on, Remus.

**I introduced it to the third years in class. To be quite honest, I hadn't really given a thought to using Neville as my demonstration student, but as Severus made it so clear to me, the poor boy needed a confidence boost.**

_There's a part I didn't hear! What'd you say to Longbottom now, Severus?_

Shut up! It can wait!

**I asked Neville what his worst fear was. He was sporting enough to admit in front of the whole class that it was Severus – **

_Which is another thing I'd like to discuss with you, Snape._

Shut UP, Minerva!

**And then I remembered meeting Neville's grandmother once. So I told Neville to think of his grandmother's clothes, then the boggart came out of the wardrobe, and, well… Neville's quite proficient at dealing with boggarts now.**

SEVERUS IN AUGUSTA LONGBOTTOM'S CLOTHES? The hat! Did he have the vulture hat?

**And the red bag.**

And you didn't get pictures?

_Stop snorting, Pomona. You're going to get snot all over your book and you'll get thrown out of the library._

I can't very well laugh outright in the library, can I? No wonder you wanted us all to shut up, Severus! I wouldn't be caught dead in the things Augusta wears! I'm finding excuses to give that boy points now.

_**And I'll find just as many excuses to take them away!**_

You're waging war, Severus. That's a very dangerous path you're taking.

_You leave Longbottom alone, Severus, or a boggart might just somehow slip into the Great Hall during dinner and manage to pick him out of the crowd…_

_**You're acting remarkably cocky for someone who has such troubles with boggarts.**_

_Yes, well, my boggart's rather difficult to make amusing. I've never seen you take one on, either, though, so you've really no argument. _

No arguing here, only laughter at Severus's expense.

_**Lupin…**_

**Really, it was you who gave me the idea to have Neville demonstrate, Severus. **

_**And who would you have used otherwise?**_

**Ron. And he did remarkably, as well. **

_**What was his boggart? His mother yelling at him?**_

Judging by that Howler from last year, I'd be pretty terrified if Molly Weasley were yelling at me…

**Ron's was a spider. He took the legs off it.**

_Oh, go on. Let's just hear about everyone's success._

Yes, twist the knife in Severus's wound.

_**Ever so charming, Pomona.**_

**Well, let's see… Parvati Patil's was a mummy. She had it trip over its own bandages. Seamus's was a banshee that lost her voice – **

When's Finnigan encountered a banshee?

_When's Patil come across a mummy?_

Touché!

**Dean's was a severed hand that crab-walked, then there was Ron, me, and Neville again.**

_**And just what was yours, Lupin? An Astronomy chart?**_

**I believe that remark calls for the phrase "charming"?**

_Ah, well done, Remus! Well done! I applaud you for catching on so quickly. _

_**Could you not resist showing off? Is that why you stepped in at some point?**_

**No, actually, I stepped in because the boggart was turning on Harry, and I thought it a good idea to stop a replica of Lord Voldemort from form – **

Damn it, Remus! You made me spill ink all over the book I had out! Oh, Merlin's beard! It's not coming off the page!

**Really, it's just a name!**

_Not JUST a name, Remus! You know only too well what kind of fear – _

**Saying "You-Know-Who" accomplishes the same thing! If anything, I think it makes that nervous feeling worse.**

_**It looks as if you've run out of support, Lupin.**_

_Oh, no he hasn't! I'll still be laughing about Longbottom's boggart years from now!_

_**You'd best hope that I don't make it my goal to become your boggart as well, Minerva.**_

_Oh, I think I know how to handle boggart Severuses. Do your worst._

_**One day, Minerva. One day.**_

* * *

><p><em><em>**Author's Note**

So you know how thses updates sometimes make you smile and laugh and feel better and stuff? Your reviews do that for me. I could use some smiles. -hint hint, nudge nudge-


	39. Chapter 39

_**THRITY NINE – Flight of the Fat Lady**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p><em>I feel like an awful human being.<em>

Oh dear. Someone's showing signs of having resisted a guilt trip. Go on, vent.

_Potter tried to convince me to give him permission to go to Hogsmeade because his aunt and uncle didn't sign his form._

_**Perhaps he should have thought a bit more before he blew up his aunt and ran off.**_

_The probably wouldn't have signed it anyway, Severus! They'd do anything to – _

Minerva…

_You know you pop up in just as bad of times as Pomona does?_

Ouch! That hurts! Don't compare anyone else to my talent.

I think it best that Harry doesn't go to Hogsmeade, considering current predicaments.

_Well, that I can't argue, but the poor boy's still probably never going to get to go, even if Black IS caught!_

Are we starting to act as though he'll avoid capture forever now? You said "if"!

_Well he's been doing a marvelous job of hiding so far. We've only got one sighting of him._

_**He must have friends he's relying on.**_

**Now, now, Severus, I know what you're implying – **

_**Do you?**_

**It's not that hard to decipher. I've already told you that I want Sirius Black caught as much as the next person, more, even. **

_You're being ridiculous, Severus!_

_Remus, would you mind keeping an eye out for Potter while everyone else is at Hogsmeade? Granger usually keeps him from doing stupid things, but with her gone…_

**Certainly! I'd enjoy getting to talk with Harry for a while.**

_Oh, and I'm sure Sibyll would want someone to warn you that a Grim's liable to pop up behind him and eat him at any given point in time, so – _

**What?**

_You've hear that Sibyll Trelawney said Potter was doomed to die by the end of the year?_

**Yes. I thought it was agreed that was highly unlikely…**

_Yes, it is, however, Sibyll loves a good show and – _

Minerva, really.

_Why don't you go braid your beard, Albus?_

That would look utterly ridiculous.

…_Have you tried this before?_

Continue on with your story.

_Right… anyway, to back up her claim, Sibyll said she saw the Grim in Potter's tea leaves that first day of class._

**That's certainly unnerving.**

_What's unnerving is that she's got half my third years wrapped around her finger and – _

Game of chess, Minerva?

_Do I have a choice?_

No.

_Fine. I'll come._

* * *

><p><strong>+++Halloween+++<strong>

**I have a bit of information I think you'll find interesting, Severus.**

_**Is that so?**_

**Harry thinks you've tried to poison me.**

_**I'm surprised Potter didn't think that a misguided attempt of his life, me dropping off that potion.**_

**Pardon?**

_**Potter seems to think I'm out to get him.**_

_Because you've given him no reason to think otherwise._

_**That I could argue, but will not.**_

_And it's not HIM he thinks you're after, necessarily. _

_**You and your loopholes.**_

_Don't get me started._

**I learned something else interesting, if anyone's curious.**

"_**Anyone" here meaning you, Minerva.**_

_Charming, Severus. Go on, Remus._

**Harry's boggart isn't Voldemort after all.**

_For the love of all that is magical, Remus! Would you show a bit of respect for your colleagues' wishes and – _

**No. I'll continue to use the name as I always have. **

**As I was saying, Harry thinks his boggart would be a dementor.**

_That's exceedingly interesting. Fear is what he fears most, then. Rather wise…_

**I thought so too.**

_**Or perhaps he just fears the things that cause him to faint and throw him into the path of ridicule. **_

_If you think he's afraid because the dementors caused him to be humiliated, does that mean your boggart's Neville Longbottom now?_

_**Charming.**_

_No, really, I'm interested in your theory._

Much as I'd like to see Severus get out of this one, we really should be going down for the feast.

_Oh, fine. To the feast, then._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Yes, it's short. I'm sorry. Review anyway?


	40. Chapter 40

_**FORTY – Flight of the Fat Lady, Grim Defeat**_

Well fed and in a good mood after a long, pleasant conversation with Professor Burbage, McGonagall rose from the staff table after the Halloween Feast. Half the students had already gone, but Lee Jordan suddenly dashed back into the hall and straight toward Dumbledore. Eyes narrowed, McGonagall headed toward the pair, but Dumbledore had already hurried out of the hall when she reached her destination.

"Jordan!" McGonagall barked before the student could get away too. "What's going on?"

"It's the Fat Lady, Professor," Jordan said, his eyes wide. "Her portrait's all slashed up and we can't find her!"

A deep feeling of unease settled upon the Transfiguration teacher and she pelted out of the hall, Snape and Lupin, who had both heard, hurrying along with her. The trio joined the large group of Gryffindors and the headmaster by the portrait of the Fat Lady. McGonagall looked at the ruined painting in a horrified kind of awe. No student would have done that…

"**We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."**

Before McGonagall could even begin to turn around to find Filch, the obnoxious, tactless voice of Peeves sounded.

"**You'll be lucky!" **the poltergeist called.

"**What do you mean, Peeves?" **Dumbledore asked.

"**Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful. Poor thing."**

McGonagall felt the strong urge to curse the poltergeist for toying with them all. He obviously knew what had happened and was simply enjoying the chance to cause a bit more panic. She glanced quickly at Snape and Lupin, both of whom seemed to be thinking along the same lines as herself.

"**Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.**

"**Oh yes, Professorhead. He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see. Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."**

McGonagall felt herself sway slightly at Peeves's words. _Black had gotten into the castle._

Dumbledore's face showed signs of anger and of great worry, the former of which his deputy was sure he hid a great deal of.

"Return to the Great Hall immediately," Dumbledore told the Gryffindors before him. "Stay together, if you please!"

With the Gryffindors beginning to shove and push trying to get away from the portrait first, Dumbledore made his way over to his three staff members. "Severus, go and gather your house," he requested rather politely, though there was definitely no room not to do as he said. Snape swept off. "Remus, if you'd be so kind as to find Pomona and Filius. I'd like the whole student body to be in the Great Hall within ten minutes."

Lupin cast one more despairing look at the Fat Lady's torn portrait before hurrying off.

"_Albus_," McGonagall said desperately as she and the headmaster began almost jogging down to the Great Hall, "how on earth – ?"

"I've no idea, Minerva," Dumbledore said unhappily.

"But he got in!" McGonagall burst. "If it weren't Halloween and we weren't all in down in the hall for the feast, he would have gotten –"

"That is a likely scenario," Dumbledore admitted.

McGonagall drew her wand. "I'll go – "

"Not yet!" Dumbledore said firmly. "We will look for Black after we are certain the students are safe."

"Right, of course, I lost myself." McGonagall pocketed her wand again as she and Dumbledore entered the Great Hall. All the students were gathered, as the headmaster had ordered.

"**The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle. I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately. Send word with one of the ghosts."**

After his explanation to all the students, Dumbledore began to head out of the hall, his staff flanking him, when he suddenly turned back around. **"Oh, yes, you'll be needing…"** And with two waves of his wand, he caused the House tables to squish up against the wall and hundreds of sleeping bags to appear. **"Sleep well."**

Once out in the entrance hall with the doors to the Great Hall shut, Dumbledore faced his staff. "I think we all – what's the phrase? – 'know the drill'," he said. The staff dispersed, all drawing their wands.

"Might I suggest an eye be kept on L – "

Dumbledore cut Snape off with a rather sharp look. The Potions Master left without another word.

"The dementors?" McGonagall asked.

"I'm going to go speak with them now," Dumbledore said.

"I trust they'll be staying on _their side_ of the gates?"

"They'll not be entering this school while I stand as headmaster," Dumbledore said with a hint of ferocity before leaving.

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

How in the name of Merlin did Black manage to get in here?

_Every entrance is being watched!_

_Dumbledore?_

I've several theories, though none are likely and they're becoming more and more far-fetched. 

The dementors didn't catch anything?

No.

_If they had, I'm sure we would have known about it._

Can you imagine if students had ACTUALLY been in Gryffindor Tower?

_I'd rather not._

I think we can all agree we've had a marvelously close call, and as such, Mr. Potter must be watched very carefully. 

_Oh, heaven's… he's got to be told why Black's escaped. He's in more danger NOT knowing now._

If you think it prudent.

_I do!_

Then let him know. In the mean time, sleep, as classes start in a few hours.

Sleep? Now? You're funny, Albus!

_**You know, Minerva, Wood's had the Gryffindor team out at rather late hours…**_

_What are you suggesting, Severus?_

_**Potter out so far away from the school, in such an open area, with only six teenagers around him? The idea they'd manage to keep Black from him is laughable. **_

_Your point?_

_**It seems rather inadvisable for Potter to continue to attend practices since he's at such a high risk with Black managing to slip into the castle now.**_

…_Damn you and your logic, Severus!_

_**So unfortunate Black had to break in just a week before Slytherin vs. Gryffindor…**_

_Oh, is Malfoy's arm going to miraculously heal just in time for the match? That'd be marvelously convenient. Shame he hasn't taken part in a practice all year… or has he?_

_**What are you insinuating, Minerva?**_

_You know full well what – _

I'd like my staff to not be falling asleep on their feet when they're supposed to be teaching, if you don't mind.

_Fine! Frustrating old man…_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Happy Thanksgiving! Well... to my American readers, happy Thanksgiving. To the rest of you... happy Thurdsday?

Today I am thankful for my woderful readers, and especially the reviewers that have helped me build confidence over the years, not just in writing, but overall. Really, you make a difference!

Have a good day!


	41. Chapter 41

_**FORTY ONE– Grim Defeat**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p><em>Potter's known this whole time that Black's out for him!<em>

Really?

_He overheard Molly and Arthur Weasley talking about it over the summer._

**Then he's keeping remarkable control of himself.**

_I wouldn't be too sure he knows EVERYTHING about Black. Oh, and Severus, I know you'll be ever so thrilled to hear that the Gryffindor Quidditch team will still be out practicing regularly. _

_**What?**_

_Madam Hooch has graciously agreed to supervise practices. Tell me, how's Slytherin shaping up?_

…

_That's what I thought._

* * *

><p><strong>++DAYS LATER++<br>**

_Severus Snape, you scheming scumbag!_

_**I'm sorry?**_

Oh, don't you pull that!

**You've got both of them after you? What have you done, Severus?**

_**Nothing that I'm aware of.**_

_You sit upon a throne of lies. _

Severus's team has gone and thrown off the entire Quidditch schedule with less than a week's notice!

**How's that?**

Malfoy's arm is "still injured", apparently, so Slytherin can't play and now Hufflepuff's taking their spot against Gryffindor!

_**As I've said before, I can't account for Flint's actions – **_

_And as I've said before, bull._

Poppy fixed that child's arm in an instant and we all know it! Now he's just screwing with the whole school! My team's been practicing to face Ravenclaw first, not Gryffindor, and they've only got one more practice left before the match now!

_Flint's just using Malfoy as an excuse not to play Gryffindor in the rain because he knows they'd suffer a more humiliating loss than last year or the year before! Wood's had Gryffindor out in every condition. THEY'RE prepared for rain!_

_**Are we through yet?**_

_Oh, no, you've got a lot coming, Severus!_

_Hasn't Slytherin got a replacement Seeker?_

_After Lucius Malfoy's ever-so-generous donation you think anyone but his son's going to get to play Seeker?_

_Who's been practicing the part, then?_

Probably Malfoy.

_**Malfoy's arm – **_

_Is in perfectly good condition. He's just out to get Hagrid and make the rest of us miserable and you know it. You know Hagrid's completely lost his nerve now? He's had students taking care of flobberworms since Malfoy screwed him over._

_**Flobberworms are an improvement to hippogriffs.**_

_Any sensible student would rather learn about hippogriffs than flobberworms! It's really a complete waste of their time to sit through a class like that. Any idiot can manage to keep a flobberworm alive._

You'd better talk to that child, Severus!

_**Malfoy?**_

No, Parkinson!

_Of course Malfoy!_

_**About what?**_

About not being a selfish prat.

_Best do it before someone beats him in the corridors and gives him a real injury, too. I've heard certain rather cunning students muttering about giving him a real reason to complain…_

_**I can only imagine who that would be. I think I'll be keeping an eye out for a pair of gingers strolling around…**_

_Good luck. I've always got an eye out for them, yet they continue to elude my grasp. Filch is after them more desperately yet. He knows more secret passages than I do and he STILL can't catch the twins over half the time._

_**It sounds to me as though you want the twins to find Malfoy.**_

_Does it?_

_**You're a cruel woman, Minerva.**_

_I'll show you cruel, Severus…_

_Well! How do we think the new matchup is going to play out on Saturday?_

**I've heard that Harry's a good flier.**

_Better than James, even._

**Really?**

_Wait and see for yourself._

**And Hufflepuff, Pomona?**

Diggory's a fair flier himself. He and Potter haven't ever faced off before, though, so we'll see how it goes.

**Chasers, then?**

I think I'll admit Gryffindor's got a bit of an upper hand there… My keeper's better, though.

_**It's a pity you won't be at the match, Lupin.**_

**I might be… We'll see what happens. Which reminds me, Minerva, do you think you could cover the third year class on Friday?**

_My Friday's full, Remus. I'm sorry._

_**My Friday's quite clear…**_

_Don't accept that offer, Remus. He's bound to try to pull something._

**I trust you, Severus. Thank you very much for volunteering.**

_**My pleasure.**_

_Oh, Merlin's beard…_

* * *

><p><strong>++FRIDAY++<strong>

_Really, Severus? Are you TRYING to get me to kill you? Because you're getting very close…_

_**What have I done now?**_

_Werewolves? Really? TWO ROLLS of parchment on them, due Monday? _

_**Third years ought to know – **_

_That's a lie! And even if it wasn't, they're education in Defense hasn't exactly been up to scratch, has it? Remus has been doing a fine job of catching them up as well as he can and you're off to try to ruin him! _

_**I haven't a single ide – **_

_Don't play dumb with me! I see right through it and you know it! WHY can't you just leave Remus be? He's not done anything to upset you at all this year other than the boggart, which was purely coincidental and more your fault than his. You're being awfully petty, you know!_

_**Petty? I am not being – **_

_Yes you are! You're still holding a grudge from school! Let it go._

_**I am trying to DEFEND the school.**_

_That one you're going to have to explain. Thoroughly. _

_**Lupin still can't refer to Black just by his last name. Have you noticed?**_

_So that must mean he's been assisting Black all year, trying to help him get to the son of his dead best friend? You're being utterly ridiculous, and I'm positive Dumbledore's told you to shut your mouth, anyway!_

_**I haven't voiced anything to the students about Lupin's choice in friends or his "condition". **_

_No, you're just trying to force the students to recognize what he's got to deal with._

_**I believe parents have the right to know who, or what, is teaching their children.**_

_Don't you try to make this about anyone other than you. Parents are perfectly happy with Remus and so are the students! THAT'S what you can't take!_

Do I need forcibly stop you two from bickering all the time?

_Have you heard what he's done, Albus?_

I believe this a matter for me to deal with, Minerva, not you. You've got your own things to worry about at present, have you not?

_You'd be wise to avoid me in the corridors, Severus._

You gave me your word, Severus, that you would not sabotage Remus, did you not?

_**Yes…**_

I think you'll do well to stick to your word a little more closely. 

_**Yes, headmaster.**_

* * *

><p><em><em>**Author's Note**

Hi. Here's your chapter. Sorry if there are typos, don't have time to do my usual editing today. Homework. Projects. Tests. REVIEW! BYE!


	42. Chapter 42

_**FORTY TWO – Grim Defeat**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p>Oh… I hate it when it's stormy on the day of a match!<p>

_**A little – **_

Shut UP! You are not permitted to say a single word to me all day, Severus!

_Rolanda Hooch's told me Wood came and asked her to call off the match._

Shame she didn't say yes. Diggory probably would have agreed to postpone it.

_But matches have gone on in conditions like this before. There's just no excuse to cancel._

_**What a – **_

_You're not allowed to talk to me, either._

_Come on, now. We should be off. _

Yes, let's go get so ridiculously soaked it'll take days to dry off.

_**I'm sure – **_

_Haven't we both told you to keep your trap shut, Severus?_

* * *

><p>"These are some of the worst playing conditions I've ever seen!" Sprout said loudly over the torrents of rain as she and McGonagall sat in the Quidditch stands waiting for the game to begin.<p>

McGonagall pulled her glasses off, tapped them with her wand, and replaced them on her face. "I was hoping my glasses were at least half the reason for my poor visibility," she admitted to Sprout unhappily when her vision hardly improved.

Sprout shook her head. "No. This is just awful weather."

The two witches watched nervously as their students took to the sky.

"Oh, not lightening, too," Sprout muttered as a bright bolt lit the sky.

As though things weren't bad enough already, the rain started to come down even heavier. McGonagall and Sprout were barely able to make out their students streaking all over the field, nearly running into each other.

"What's Wood called a time out for?" Sprout asked as Wood frantically flagged Madam Hooch down after a while.

McGonagall looked keenly at the Seekers as they joined their teams on the ground. "Updating Potter, probably. It's not like the boy can see anything, not without his glasses being charmed. I think this round might be yours, Pomona…"

Sprout looked only slightly mollified. "I wouldn't be so sure… Gryffindor's up fifty points."

"Unless we can get a hundred sixty points up…" McGonagall allowed herself to trail off.

"Look, game's back on," Sprout said. "Someone's done something to Potter's glasses. He doesn't look quite so clueless anymore. Looks like we're back on even ground."

Both teachers jumped slightly as thunder rang clearly through the stadium. Lightening came soon after.

"At this point I really don't think I care much who wins," McGonagall said nervously. "I just want everyone back inside before someone gets hit."

"Sooner than you think!" Sprout said excitedly. "Look! Diggory's seen the Snitch!"

McGonagall's eyes flew to her own Seeker. Potter had caught on and was streaking after Diggory. Unfortunately, the professor lost sight of her student as black hooded figures suddenly swarmed the stadium, forcing every happy or hopeful thought out of her.

"What are _they_ doing here?" McGonagall heard Sprout yell faintly, but voices inside her own head were quickly drowning out the sounds around her.

McGonagall rose and drew her wand, intent on at least attempting to ward off the dementors, but froze instead as she saw a figure in scarlet Quidditch robes fall out of the clouds. "_Potter!_" she shrieked in horror, but there was nothing else she could do.

To McGonagall's immense relief, Dumbledore rushed out onto the field and waved his wand, slowing Harry's progression to the ground. With another wave, his Patronus burst out of his wand and positively attacked the dementors. They flew away quickly.

McGonagall and Sprout both began descending onto the field, but McGonagall outstripped Sprout and beat her down to Dumbledore standing over Harry.

"I gave the strictest orders," Dumbledore growled uncharacteristically, "that the dementors were _not _to enter this school!" He turned and looked at his worry-stricken deputy. "What happened?"

"I don't know!" McGonagall admitted, trying to maintain a professional demeanor as both Quidditch teams along with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger hurried over. She managed to hide only a fraction of the worry she felt. "Potter and Diggory were both after the Snitch, and then they just _came_! How did you know – "

"I saw them coming from my office," Dumbledore said with such unnatural ferocity it cowed even his deputy. "Send an owl to Cornelius. I want to speak with him immediately!"

"I'll do it!" Flitwick piped up. He nodded at a thankful looking McGonagall and hurried off.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, bent over her friend. "_Harry!_"

"Come on, mate," Ron said loudly. "Wake up!"

"Don't touch him, Ron!" Angelina Johnson snapped. "We might only make it worse."

"Make it worse?" Ron argued. "He's already not moving!"

"Get all the students out of here," Dumbledore ordered.

"You worry about Potter. The rest of us will get everyone back inside," Sprout said to McGonagall. She cast a worried glance at the unmoving third year on the ground and bustled off to begin yelling at people.

"Back! Back away!" McGonagall shouted at the students surrounding Harry, clearing plenty of room for Dumbledore.

"Rematch! Rematch!" someone called faintly. McGonagall looked over to see Cedric Diggory running toward Wood, the snitch still in his hand. "This isn't a fair win, Wood! Your Seeker – "

"Forget it, Diggory," Wood said stiffly. "You didn't sabotage us. You won, fair and square." Swallowing a great deal of pride, he held out his hand. "Congratulations."

"I won't have it, Wood," Cedric said firmly and pushed Wood's hand down. "The dementors shouldn't have been here. I'm going to go talk to Madam Hooch about it!"

McGonagall felt a great swell of pride in Wood's acceptance and sense of fairness, but it quickly evaporated as she looked back at Harry, still sprawled on the ground. With great difficulty, she pulled her feet through the mud over to Dumbledore. "Albus…"

"For something here to protect the students, the dementors are doing quite a bit of harm," Dumbledore spat as he waved his wand. "I never wanted those blasted things here in the first place!" A stretcher slid its way under Harry and the headmaster began striding back to the castle, the boy floating in front of him.

"That was a long fall, Albus," McGonagall said gingerly, though sounding somewhat panicked. "He hasn't moved at all…"

"He's alive, to answer your question," Dumbledore said rather moodily. "Run ahead to Poppy, if you please."

McGonagall picked up pace dramatically and soon burst into the hospital wing. "Poppy!"

"Did I see the dementors going onto the Quidditch pitch?" Pomfrey asked, quite the dangerous glint in her eye.

"Yes," McGonagall said. "Potter passed out again and fell off his broom."

Pomfrey gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "He's a Seeker, he'd have been up pretty high…"

"Fifty feet, at least," McGonagall said. "Albus is bringing him up now. I'm sure the whole team's going to want to stay up here until they all know how he is. Albus said he's alive, but he's given us quite the scare."

"With luck this will be the only one he _does_ give us this year," Pomfrey said with a relieved sigh. "Er – How did Albus react to the dementors getting onto the grounds?"

"He's _furious_," McGonagall said, looking slightly nervous. "He's as angry as I've ever seen him, and I think he was holding back because of all the students."

"You'd better go up to his office and wait for orders, then," Pomfrey advised. "I'll be sure to send you word when Potter comes around."

"There's not much else he can have any of us do. Filius is sending an owl to Fudge now, the dementors have cleared off, and you'll be in charge of Potter."

The doors to the hospital wing burst open and Dumbledore strode through with Harry slightly in front of him on a levitating stretcher. The Gryffindor Quidditch team plus Ron and Hermione followed the headmaster at a short distance.

"Here, Professor Dumbledore," Pomfrey said, rushing forward and gesturing to a bed.

Dumbledore lowered the stretcher onto the bed and then vanished it. "Professor McGonagall," he said as Pomfrey busied herself, "there are a few things that need to be taken care of."

"Of course," McGonagall said, and she followed Dumbledore out of the wing.

"Cornelius will be coming by shortly – "

"Has he responded to the owl that quickly?" McGonagall asked.

"Please go and open the gate for him," Dumbledore requested, beginning to sound much more like himself.

McGonagall gave a nod, then split from the headmaster to go out into the rain once more. She met Flitwick in the entrance hall. He carried a bag and looked almost nervous to see his colleague.

"That took a long time to send an owl," McGonagall commented.

"Yes, well, I thought I might also retrieve Mr. Potter's broom," Flitwick said uneasily.

McGonagall's eyes popped slightly as she looked at the bag Flitwick carried. "That's not it?"

Flitwick nodded sadly. "It hit the Whomping Willow."

McGonagall furrowed her brow. "Those dementors owe me a few galleons," she muttered before stomping back out into the rain. By the time she managed to fight her way to the gates, Fudge was already waiting.

"Ah, Minerva!" he said, showing a very strained smile.

"That owl got to you already?" McGonagall asked, tapping the gates with her wand.

"Well, I – " Fudge seemed unwilling to speak. "I sent Dawlish out here to the match today and he came back immediately after the - "

McGonagall felt her nostrils flare. "Sent an Auror out here, did you? And you didn't think it a courtesy to inform us of this?"

"How's Mr. Potter?" Fudge asked, desperate to change the subject.

"He fell fifty feet from his broom!" McGonagall snapped. "Dumbledore's furious with you and your blasted minions!"

"Merlin's beard! The boy's not dead, is he?"

"No," McGonagall answered, "but only because Dumbledore saw the dementors coming from his office and was able to get to the pitch in time to stop Potter hitting the ground full speed!"

McGonagall was pleased to see that Fudge looked absolutely terrified to go see the headmaster.

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p>So… how did everything go with Fudge?<p>

_Oh, well he's fudged up once again, of course._

I thought that much was obvious…

_No, really, he's screwing up even more._

Well, come on! Out with it!

He has set the dementors to patrol Hogsmeade nightly.

Oh my goodness…

_You can imagine how thrilled the shopkeepers are going to be when they find out._

_What did Fudge say was his reasoning?_

_Well he SAID it was because Black's been getting so close and Hogsmeade's the nearest town and so on so forth, but what he's really doing is finding an outlet for the dementors so they don't come back onto the grounds._

I can't say that I'm not somewhat pleased.

_Merely out of curiosity, Minerva, what did Fudge say when you told him the dementors owed you money?_

…The dementors owe you money? How do you figure that?

_Potter's broom fell into the Whomping Willow. That thing wasn't cheap!_

_**YOU bought the broom?**_

_Well I had originally considered stealing it, but I thought that might send a bad message to the students._

_**I had been under the impression that the actual school had bought it.**_

_No. And don't you even think about making a comment about me trying to up my team's odds, because you have the least amount of right to do so, what with your whole team zooming around on Nimbus 2001s. _

_We'll just drop the matter, then, shall we? Mr. Potter will buy a new broom soon, I'm sure, and this whole debacle with his first one will just fade away._

Is Potter awake yet, Minerva?

_Yes, but Poppy's keeping him over the weekend. I tell you, if that boy gives us another death scare this year and survives, I'll kill him myself._

…That seems a bit backwards.

_I don't particularly care._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Well hello, to you all! I think it's about time I reintroduce myself to you! My name is alittleinsane963 and over the past couple of weeks my life has been a little insane! I apologize for the long wait. I was going to update on... Tuesday?... but then when I tried to turn my computer on the screen and tower didn't feel like communicating right... so I couldn't get to any of my files. -pout-

ANYWAY!

I am now officially on break and have almost nothing better to do than write, so here we go!

Leave me a pretty review, por favor. :)


	43. Chapter 43

_**FORTY THREE – The Marauder's Map**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p><em>What a marvelous miracle. Malfoy's arm is completely healed now.<em>

_**Pity it wasn't up to scratch before the match…**_

_Yes, well, it's a good thing he's in perfectly good health now so that he can more effectively mock Potter._

**I've got a bone to pick with you as well, Severus.**

_**Is the whole staff after me now?**_

_No, but I could arrange that, if you'd like._

**My third years tell me you assigned them two rolls of parchment on werewolves.**

_**Do they?**_

**Yes. I found that most intriguing, considering they told you where we were in the book and how werewolves aren't typically covered until fifth year…**

_**Is that so?**_

**It is so. I hope you don't mind terribly, but I've told them that they don't have to complete the assignment.**

_**How very fortunate. We wouldn't want certain things to become common knowledge, would we?**_

**Severus, I do not want to be on unpleasant terms! I would like very much if we could get along.**

_**I'm sure.**_

_How'd Potter look in class, Remus?_

**Remarkably well, all things considered. His self-confidence has taken a bit of a dive, though, I think.**

_**What a pity indeed.**_

_Don't you have some roots to chop up or something, Severus?_

_Did Potter say his classmates are bothering him, Remus?_

**No, and I don't think he'd admit it if they were. He thinks himself weak because he's the only one that faints around the dementors.**

_That's ridic – _

**I explained that to him. He's still very eager to learn to defend himself, though. I would be too.**

_Eager to – he wants to learn the Partonus?_

**I don't think he knows what a Patronus is, but considering it's the only defense…**

_That's extremely advanced… you haven't agreed to teach him, have you?_

**I did, actually.**

_**Potter will doubtless be thrilled to learn something he shouldn't.**_

**There is nothing wrong with learning the Patronus, Severus. As a matter of fact, I think it's something that should be taught at Hogwarts.**

_There's typically not a need for one to learn it. Hopefully the day never comes when it seems a good idea to teach it._

**Yes, but it has other uses besides fighting dementors…**

_Uses that few know about, and that's the way it's going to stay._

**I've no intention of teaching Harry the alternate uses. I'm merely making a point.**

_And I'm refuting it._

_**I'm inclined to think that Potter's merely seeking attention. He's gotten into that bad habit.**_

**He's not looking for attention, Severus!**

_**You're being a fool, Lupin. That boy looks everywhere – **_

**He wants to learn to defend himself against the dementors because he hears Lily being murdered whenever they're around! That's why he faints!**

_Merlin's beard… I can't imagine._

**Do you have anything else to say, Severus?**

_**No.**_

* * *

><p><strong>++WEEKS LATER++<strong>

_That was a good game of Quidditch._

For you it was.

_Well, yes, I won't deny that. It must have been good news for you too, Minerva. Gryffindor might not be out of the running yet._

_So Flint and Malfoy's plan may not work after all. What a pity, eh, Severus?_

_**Charming.**_

_Are there going to be issues between us in the next few days, Pomona?_

-sigh- No. Both our teams played a clean game. Mine just lost. Badly.

_Hufflepuff has been fairing a lot better this year than last, though._

Slow and steady wins the race… over years and years… one day…

_What teams are up next, Minerva?_

_Ravenclaw and Slytherin, unless Malfoy sustains another injury._

_**Seeing as there are no longer hippogriffs running amuck – **_

_They were NOT running amuck! Hagrid had control over them. Malfoy is just – I'm not arguing this with you, Severus._

_Subject change!_

_When are we taking names of those staying for holidays?_

_Haven't decided on a date yet._

We probably won't have too many staying behind this year. Not with Black roaming around.

_**You know what we might do – **_

_I don't like it when you have ideas, Severus._

_**Send all the students home, save Potter, then put him out on the lawn in plain sight and lay in wait for Black to come.**_

_That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard._

_**I haven't noticed you coming up with any brilliant ideas, Minerva.**_

_Setting a student out as bait for a traitorous murderer isn't exactly brilliant, Severus._

_**Then you must have a better idea.**_

_How about keeping all the students alive?_

Sounds like a good plan to me.

_**Unless some tragic event prevented us from stopping Black before he got to Potter – **_

_Would you just shut up? You're really not being amusing at all._

Minerva, would you care to explain what the twins are doing slinking around the fourth floor with their wands drawn?

_If I had to guess, I'd say they're just out for a bit of exercise._

Very amusing. Now go get them.

_I swear, here and now, that if the next group of pranksters lands in my house, I'm finding reason to expel them as quickly as possible._

Now you've just jinxed yourself.

**Ah… don't tell Minerva, but I think the twins might have gotten an idea from me…**

Remus, what have you done?

**I might have said something about a painting of a parrot on the fourth floor that James taught some interesting words to in our sixth year…**

…Did he teach that thing to recognize us professors? Because I swear something squawks at me every time I walk through one of those corridors.

**He might have done.**

_So it's your fault I had to get up just now, Remus?_

**In my defense, I didn't think – **

_Yes, that's just it. You didn't think. We warned you about the twins, and I remember telling you not to give them ideas._

**It was an accident, I promise you.**

_There'd better not be another accident like it._

* * *

><p><span>How many students do we have staying for the holidays, Minerva?<span>

_Not very many at all! Less than a dozen. I can't decide if I think that's a good thing or not._

I think it'd be a good idea for the Heads of house to spend their nights a bit closer to their common rooms, then.

_Weasley and Granger signed to stay behind with Potter._

Very good.

_Agreed. I'm surprised Mrs. Weasley didn't fight to have Ron go home, though, or even take the lot of them. She can't like the idea of her youngest son staying with so few others in the castle…_

I'm sure Mr. Ron Weasley had to do some convincing. However, what's done is done and we'll simply make the best of it.

…_You saying that makes me nervous. What ideas are going on in your head at the moment?_

Plenty of ideas are going through my head at the moment, none of which you'd be particularly interested to hear about.

_I beg to differ. Your ideas end up as trouble for me half the time._

Do they? I apologize for that.

_You're still not going to tell me, are you?_

No. I think it'd be more fun to surprise you.

_I hate surprises._

That's a very sad statement. I think surprises are wonderful.

_That's because you're typically the one doing the surprising._

…_._

_Albus?_

…

_In the event that you're simply ignoring me and waiting to see how I react, which I think highly likely, I will inform you that I am not playing that game and will therefore close my Notebook and grade some essays._

SURPRISE! I'm still here.

_I'm not. Good night!_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Hi. You know what I'm about to ask for... That's right! An elephant! Lol, jk. I'll just as for a review.

...but seriously, find me an elephant.


	44. Chapter 44

_**FORTY FOUR – The Firebolt**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p>What's with Hagrid, Albus? I was just out to feed the venomous tentacula and he looks dreadful!<p>

Buckbeak has a hearing scheduled with the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. He hasn't taken to the news well.

Oh, no! With Lucius Malfoy against him with that committee, Buckbeak doesn't stand a chance.

_Is there not anything that we could do?_

Hagrid's got to prepare a defense for Buckbeak and go to the hearing. That's that.

_Well… I'll go see if he wants any help, then._

* * *

><p><em>I don't believe it…<em>

What?

_Hagrid said he's already got help making a defense for Buckbeak!_

There's no way he hired a lawyer! Who's he got?

_I don't – oh, Merlin's beard._

Come on. Spit it out.

_The only people here aside from the staff that would help Hagrid are Potter, Weasley, and Granger._

_**They're quite good at getting rules bent to cater to their wishes. They'll twist – **_

_Are you finished, Severus?_

_**No. I was in the middle of a sentence, actually.**_

_I think you misunderstood. Allow me to rephrase: You're done, Severus._

_I could use some help decorating the Great Hall. Is anyone willing? _

Certainly! How many trees do we have in the hall?

_Twelve, as usual._

Good. I won't have this skimping on decorations just because students aren't around nonsense. It's simply not Christmas without the proper decorations.

_That's what I said! Minerva, are you coming?_

_In just a moment._

_Severus?_

_**No.**_

_Well, alright. The offer still stands if you change your mind, though._

Like he'd –

_I'm in a cheery mood, Pomona. Please don't ruin it._

Oh, fine. I guess I'll let you be happy. I'm on my way down to the hall now.

_Great!_

* * *

><p>"One table. Really, Albus?" McGonagall asked as she entered the Great Hall on Christmas for dinner.<p>

"It seems highly illogical to have all the tables set out when so few are here in the castle," Dumbledore said from his seat.

"If I were a student I'd definitely prefer sitting at my House table by myself than sitting with my teachers," Sprout said. "Let's make the most of this opportunity, then, shall we?" she added with a smile.

"Honestly, Pomona, if the world knew your real personality," Flitwick said with a shake of his head.

"Well don't let it be known now," McGonagall said lowly as the door to the hall opened and two first years stepped in. The students' faces quickly filled with embarrassment and horror.

"Sorry," one of them said quickly. "We'll just go – "

"You're not in the wrong place," Dumbledore said cheerily. "Merry Christmas! Sit down!"

The first years sat as far away from any of the professors as they possibly could and were all but shaking before another student, a Slytherin fifth year, entered the hall and sat down. Not long after, Potter, Weasley, and Granger entered the hall as well. Dumbledore invited them to sit and then grabbed something from the center of the table.

"**Crackers!"** the headmaster said happily and held one of the ends out to Snape, who took it and pulled with a most displeased look on his face. Sprout snorted and McGonagall quickly hid her face behind her cup as a hat with a stuffed vulture on top of it materialized out of the cracker.

Snape registered that the hat was similar to the one Augusta Longbottom wore and pushed it toward Dumbledore, wanting nothing to do with it. Dumbledore traded his own hat for the vulture one, causing his deputy to shake her head slightly.

"**Dig in!"** Dumbledore told his dining companions.

The door to the Great Hall swung open and showed none other than Professor Trelawney garbed in green sequins.

"Merlin's beard," Sprout breathed to McGonagall. "What's gotten into her?"

"Wanting news, I suspect," McGonagall said quietly, though indifferently. "No one's written in the Notebook since the first day of break, and she's got no students filtering through her room to update her."

"Wait! Here comes the excuse…"

"**Sybill, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.**

"**I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," **Trelawney said, **"and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you forgive my lateness…"**

McGonagall did not hear Dumbledore's response owed to Sprout leaning over slightly to say quietly, "Green's not really her color, is it?"

Before McGonagall could attempt a reply, a chair fell between her and Snape. She glared at Dumbledore as her nostrils flared quickly.

Trelawney suddenly looked horrified. **"I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!" **Trelawney said desperately.

Trying very hard not to roll her eyes, McGonagall resigned herself to her own fate and spoke. **"We'll risk it, Sibyll. Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."**

Trelawney sat down as though she expected some great tragedy to befall someone the instant she took the weight off her feet.

Unable to resist expressing herself somewhat, McGonagall stuck a spoon into the nearest dish without looking at it and asked, **"Tripe, Sibyll?"**

Trelawney seemed not to hear. She looked around the table before asking, **"But where is dear Professor Lupin?"**

"**I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again. Most unfortunate it should happen on Christmas Day,"** Dumbledore explained.

McGonagall saw the perfect set up and simply had to take it. **"But surely you already knew that, Sibyll?"**

"**Certainly I knew, Minerva. But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."**

"**That explains a great deal."**

"**If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him – "**

Now very much dreading to hear whatever comments Snape was formulating on the other side of Trelawney for later discussion, McGonagall cut Trelawney off. **"Imagine that."**

"**I doubt that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger," **Dumbledore said in a louder voice than usual.

McGonagall put her concentration into grabbing a few more things for her plate so as to avoid openly glaring at Dumbledore in front of students.

Dinner progressed and was surprisingly pleasant considering the awkwardness of students and teachers sitting at the same table, Trelawney among the company.

"Harry," said Ron after positively shoving a roll down his throat. "Harry, here, take this end!" He offered Harry the end of a cracker. The two boys pulled and a Santa hat fell onto the table.

"Excellent," Harry commented, grabbing the hat.

"Oi!" Ron objected, jamming the hat onto his head. "This one's mine! Get your own cracker!"

"Fine," Harry said, slightly sulking. He grabbed a cracker and held it out to Hermione on his other side. "Hermione?"

Hermione seemed to take a split second to glare at Ron around Harry before taking the cracker with a sigh and pulling, releasing a pirate's hat with a large feather.

"Ha!" Harry said triumphantly. "You can keep _that_, Ron." He put his newfound hat on his head and then threw a cracker in front of Hermione. "Come on, you next!"

Hermione looked at the cracker as though fearful it would jump up and attack her face. "I don't think so, Harry."

"Who does _that_ remind me of?" Sprout mused quietly.

"Severus," McGonagall replied.

"Cracker, Minerva?"

"I don't think so, Pomona."

Sprout smiled. "Pucey, would you pass me those potatoes, please?"

Two hours after sitting down, McGonagall felt as though she wouldn't have to eat again for several days and was quite relaxed until Harry and Ron got up, causing Trelawney to scream in quite an unpleasant manner.

"**My dears!" **the Divination professor fussed. **"Which of you left his seat first? Which?"**

"**Dunno," said Ron, looking uneasily at Harry.**

McGonagall huffed quietly before speaking in a tone which betrayed her change in mood, **"I doubt it will make much difference unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the entrance hall."**

The students all laughed and McGonagall noticed that Flitwick had some of his drink running down his chin as though he'd accidently spat it out.

"**Coming?" Harry said to Hermione.**

Hermione's response was too quiet for anyone other than Harry or Ron to hear and the two boys left the hall. Trelawney left soon after as though she had merely been waiting for someone else to leave the table of thirteen before her.

"I expect you're going to be spoken to about your conversation with Sibyll at the beginning of dinner," Sprout said as she hauled herself out of her seat.

"He knows it won't do any good," McGonagall said indifferently, looking quickly at Dumbledore, who was involved in a conversation with Flitwick. "My brother sent me some squawking plant. Do you want to take it off my hands?"

"Squawking plant?" Sprout asked.

"I think it might be a screechsnap," McGonagall said. "Either way, you've more use for it than I do and you know I won't take care of it."

"Didn't this brother send you honking daffodils last year?" Sprout asked.

"He can't resist the opportunity to annoy or upset me. You know how Mal – "

"Excuse me," said a quiet and nervous voice. Both witches turned to look at Hermione Granger with her head slightly hung.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you about something quickly," Hermione said.

McGonagall furrowed her eyebrows, thoroughly hoping something hadn't happened with the Time-Turner. She looked significantly at Sprout, who walked away without bothering to come up with an excuse.

"What is it, Miss Granger?"

"It's Harry," Hermione said, looking around and beginning to wring her hands a bit. "He was sent a broomstick – a Firebolt – today."

McGonagall felt her eyes widen. If Potter had a Firebolt, Gryffindor's chances of taking the Cup would increase dramatically. Before her hopes could run too far ahead, Hermione spoke again.

"There wasn't a note or anything with it, Professor," the girl said. "Harry doesn't know anyone with that kind of money that would get him a nice present and, well…" She paused and took a deep breath. "I've read that a lot of old wizarding families have a ridiculous amount of gold and I read that Sirius Black's a pureblood, and if he's able to get on the grounds…"

"You think that Black gave Potter a cursed broom?" McGonagall asked, her eyebrows rising.

Hermione nodded.

McGonagall thought for a moment. Black was by no means unintelligent. As he had already failed getting at Harry directly once, he would try to find another way to get at him.

The memory of Harry on a madly bucking broom sprung into McGonagall's mind, and it was enough to strengthen her resolve. "I think that a likely option, Miss Granger. Potter's got it up in his room, I expect?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione answered, looking even more tense than before.

McGonagall sighed heavily. "Alright, let's go."

The professor followed her student up to the Gryffindor common room where she found Harry and Ron ogling at Harry's new Firebolt. Neither were at all happy with the idea of the broom being taken away and rigorously checked for curses and jinxes, but McGonagall walked away with the broom in the end, rather disgusted with the idea that she was very likely holding something that had been bought to use in the murder of one of her students.

McGonagall climbed several stairs and wound through various corridors until she finally approached the door to Flitwick's office and knocked.

"Minerva!" Flitwick squeaked with a smile. "I thought you and Pom – Is that a _Firebolt_?" he asked, his eyes popping.

McGonagall nodded. "It was sent to Potter without any sort of note or message."

Flitwick's face fell into an uncharacteristic frown. "You think Black's sent it with a jinx to finish Potter off?"

"I think we'd be stupid not to check it over," McGonagall said. "Rolanda comes back a few days from now. I was hoping the pair of you would examine it thoroughly."

Flitwick took the broom from the Gryffindor Head of House. "I'll start on the basics tonight," he said, looking at the broom in awe. "Black always did seem to have the best, didn't he?"

"Until he ran off from home," McGonagall said. "I still have such difficulty believing what he's done!"

"I daresay when his mother realized his true allegiance she gave him all the money he wanted," Flitwick said, seeming to have only heard the first half of what his colleague said to him. "And now he's the sole heir to the entire family fortune. He could easily have afforded this broom with what his family's got locked away."

"Which begs the question: how would he have gotten into Gringott's?" McGonagall asked.

"I can't pretend to offer you a logical explanation," Flitwick said. "I think Albus would like to know about this, though, don't you?"

McGonagall gave a single firm nod. "Do keep me updated on that broom," she said before walking off.

"Good night, Minerva, and Merry Christmas!" Flitwick called after the transfiguration teacher.

"Good night, Filius," McGonagall said over her shoulder.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Hi. How convenient that this is a Christmas chapter so close to Christmas.

Speaking of Christmas... I only asked Santa for one thing. I bet you can't figure out what it was. ;)

PS - Happy (substitute your holiday here)! However, as I celebrate Christmas, I have to say **Merry Christmas**!


	45. Chapter 45

_**FORTY FIVE– The Patronus**_

McGonagall looked out her office window as students began climbing out of carriages, back from spending a few weeks with their families. Admit it or not, she was glad for their return. Things had been far too quiet considering how splendid and grand the decorations of the castle were. Although, she mused, it may have only been because the Weasley twins weren't running around wreaking their usual Christmas time havoc.

The entirety of the student body being back would also be good for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The typically inseparable group had become rather distant since McGonagall had taken the Firebolt at Hermione's urging. Not that she would admit it aloud, but McGonagall was almost hoping for Malfoy to call Hermione a Mudblood so Harry and Ron would jump to her defense and all would be well among them once more. The professor did not like it when Houses failed to get along with each other, but when there was discord within a House, she simply couldn't stand it, especially if it was her own.

Sighing at her own pitiful thoughts, McGonagall sat herself down at her desk and pulled out a copy of _Transfiguration Today_. She had just gotten into a rather well written article and was about to put her feet up when an impatient knock sounded.

Muttering lowly, McGonagall threw her magazine into her desk, strode over to her door, and pulled it open. "Wood," she said, sounding slightly surprised.

"Professor McGonagall," Oliver Wood replied. He had quite a determined look on his face that caused his professor to scowl.

"Potter's already told you about the broom, hasn't he?" she asked.

"Yes, Professor," Wood said.

McGonagall stepped aside and allowed Wood into her office, knowing he would only come back later if she sent him away.

"Professor, a _Firebolt_," Wood burst as soon as the door closed. "How can you deny us a _Firebolt?_"

"I have no wish to deprive Gryffindor of a Firebolt, Wood," McGonagall said as she sat back down at her desk and gestured for Wood to take the seat across it. "I do, however, have a wish to make sure all the Gryffindor players are safe."

"How could Black have sent Potter a cursed broom, Professor?" Wood asked. "_Everyone's_ looking for him! He can't have just strolled into Gringott's and taken out money, then strolled into Quality Quidditch Supplies to get a broom!"

"Yes, Wood, everyone _is_ looking for Black, but he's still managed to avoid capture for months now and has even gotten into this school! I am not taking any chances," McGonagall said. She felt her nostrils flare. Wood's resolve and temper would not break anywhere near as easily as other students'. Had he not been a student, as a matter of fact, and she did not have power over him, he and she would be locked in an endless argument, neither of them willing to back down for anything.

"I've read everything there is on Firebolts, Professor. It's practically impossible to jinx them."

"Black is a highly intelligent, highly capable, and highly dangerous wizard, Wood. Believe me when I tell you that if he were to want something cursed, it would be cursed," McGonagall argued. "If and when the broom is declared safe, it will be given back to Potter."

"But, Professor, the _Cup_," Wood pressed on. "With a Firebolt on the team it's practically guaranteed! Harry's got to practice on that broom before we play another match."

"The Cup is not worth a life, Wood, much as you seem to think so," McGonagall snapped, becoming rather irritable.

"Harry's already had his broom jinxed once. He survived that just fine. He got by alright with that bludger last year. He's already survived falling off his broom once this y – "

"And that was only because Professor Dumbledore's got a good view of the Quidditch pitch from his office and the ground was soft from the rain! What do you think his chances are if he falls off again?"

"A lot higher than Gryffindor getting the Cup with him playing on a Shooting Star!" Wood said.

"Just how would you feel, Wood, if Potter's broom threw him off at seventy feet?" McGonagall asked, a single eyebrow raised.

"I don't care if it throws him off as long as he's got the Snitch!" Wood said shortly.

McGonagall lost control of the volume of her voice. "I told you the Cup is not worth someone's life, Wood!" she shouted. "If you truly cared about Gryffindor's chances at Quidditch in the long run, or about your team mates, you'd be in on the decision to make sure that your Seeker is around for the next four years! Potter will continue to use the school brooms for practice and that is that! Now go back to your dormitory!"

"How much longer are you going to keep Harry's broom to check it for jinxes and curses put on it by a man that doesn't have access to any money?" Wood asked rather testily.

If McGonagall had given Wood a look that was any colder, he might have turned into ice. **"As long as necessary, Wood."**

Wood got up and left quickly without saying another word.

* * *

><p><strong>++Days Later++<strong>

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p><em>Tell me you've got good news on that broomstick, Filius.<em>

_Rolanda and I haven't found anything yet. Is that good?_

_I almost wish you had found something wrong with it. That way I'd have SOMETHING to tell Potter and Wood… I swear, if Wood comes to my office again…_

_Is that what's just happened?_

_Yes._

_I'd imagine he's not pleased we're keeping a Firebolt from him._

_Definitely not. He wants that Cup._

_At what cost?_

_Just about any, I think._

_I find it a curious thing how worked up we get about a silly sport like Quidditch._

* * *

><p><strong>++More Days Later++<strong>

_Marvelous. Potter's taken to asking me about the broom after every lesson._

So tell him to bugger off.

_I'm holding off on the idea that he might get tired of hearing "no" and leave me alone._

_Even I think that's wishful thinking, Minerva._

_I don't care._

* * *

><p><strong>++Even More Days Later++<strong>

_There. I told him to bugger off, Pomona. Let's see how much good that does!_

If you were your usual self about it, I'm sure it'll do a lot of good. Now, if you would kindly go find the twins –

_What have they done now?_

I'm missing a couple of bubotubers and they've just left my greenhouses.

_Merlins' beard… the sooner we're rid of those two, the better!_

You'll miss them and you know it!

* * *

><p><strong>++Oh My Goodness! So Many Days!++<strong>

I_ have news you're going to like, Minerva!_

_This had better be about that Firebolt…_

_It is. Come get it._

_YES! Finally! Merlin's beard! Just in time, too, what with the match this weekend!_

* * *

><p><strong>I'm getting more than a little bit concerned for Harry…<strong>

_That's really not what I want to hear, Remus, not after I just had the pleasure of returning his Firebolt to him and now that I have the happy idea of very possibly winning the Cup in my head._

**He knows things he shouldn't.**

_**Potter always knows things he shouldn't. It's an unfortunate side effect of being a nosy little blighter.**_

_Ignore Severus. What kinds of things does he know now, Remus?_

**He knew that James and Sirius were friends at school. No one's told him, have they?**

_Merlin's beard, I hope not!_

**He believes Sirius deserves the Dementor's Kiss.**

_That's uncharacteristic…_

He must know something, then…

**He's also had butterbeer before.**

_**Likely from – **_

_Weasley and Granger probably brought him some back. They've always got a whole load of something they're bringing him for consolation. Merlin's beard, I hope he manages to convince Petunia and Vernon to sign his form…_

**I think we all know that's very unlikely to happen. Petunia always – Well, never mind. It's unlikely. He can go in his seventh year, at least. He'll be of age then.**

But how does he know that James and Sirius were friends in school?

_Did you say anything, Severus?_

_**Why would I, Minerva?**_

_To get Potter to do something stupid, Severus._

_**That boy doesn't need my encouragement to do something stupid. He's perfectly capable of unassisted stupidity, Minerva.**_

_You seem to think that's the only thing he's capable of, Severus. Which reminds me… how're those Patronus lessons going, Remus?_

**I don't think I'll tell you.**

…_Why?_

_**Because the boy's awful and Lupin doesn't want to admit it.**_

**Not necessarily true. Maybe Harry's produced a corporal Patronus already.**

_**Then you're purposely annoying Minerva.**_

**Old habits die hard, Severus.**

_You'd better not be resurrecting that old habit, Remus. I've got enough to deal with and therefore cannot be held responsible for any injuries that befall you if you cause me to snap._

**I have no intention of causing you to "snap". **

_You'd better not._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

You know, I get tired of thinking of creative ways to ask for reviews; therefore, I will not come up with a creative way this time.

Review!


	46. Chapter 46

_**FORTY SIX– Gryffindor Versus Ravenclaw**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p><em>Rolanda's being an infuriating cow.<em>

I'm rather hurt you think of someone else as infuriating.

_Rest assured you'll always be the person that can infuriate me most, Albus._

Now that's settled… What's our dear flight instructor done to make you so upset?

_She's not telling me how Potter's doing on that Firebolt!_

The game's tomorrow, Minerva! You'll see him fly on it plenty.

_You know I hate waiting._

Ah! Remus! You'll finally get to see Potter fly!

**I look forward to it.**

He's not at all as showy as James, though, so –

_Oh, he gives plenty of shows. Almost being bucked off his broom, being chased by some meddled with bludger, fainting and falling fifty feet…_

All of which he did purposely just to cause you to almost have a heart attack, Minerva, I'm sure.

_Oh, shut up, Pomona._

* * *

><p>"Well, there you have it," Sprout said as the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor Quidditch teams flew up into the air, Harry flying faster and farther than any other players. "I think Filius is going to be disappointed with this match."<p>

McGonagall's lips twitched upward slightly, but before she could reply, she found herself having to keep Lee Jordan in check.

"**They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to **_**Which Broomstick**_**, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship –"**

"**Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?"** McGonagall asked, wondering, as she so often did, why she kept Lee on as commentator when he got sidetracked so easily.

"What's Chang playing at?" Sprout asked a few minutes into the match as the Ravenclaw Seeker cut Harry off for the fifth time.

"What's _Potter_ playing at?" McGonagall asked, very quietly for fear that Lee's microphone would pick up her voice. "He could easily pass her up!"

The two Seekers suddenly hurdled toward the ground, Harry with a very advantageous head start that nearly allowed him to catch the Snitch, but a well aimed bludger stopped him.

"Blast it!" McGonagall said darkly, sinking back into the seat she had pulled herself several inches forward in while Harry had been headed toward the ground.

"**Gryffindor leads by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now, see it turn – Chang's Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt's precision-balance is really noticeable in these long – "**

McGonagall became aware that Lee was doing precisely what she had told him not to and turned to yell at him. **"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"**

Ravenclaw scored three times. McGonagall looked across the pitch to see Flitwick clapping with a bright smile on his face and frowned. She looked back toward the actual players to see Harry racing off toward the Gryffindor goal posts before being cut off by Cho Chang once more and veering drastically off course. Faintly, she heard Wood call to Harry to knock Cho off her broom if he had to, and she secretly agreed.

McGonagall smirked as Harry caught on to the fact that Cho was simply following him. He flew into a steep dive, pulled up barely in time, and began racing over to the Ravenclaw end of the pitch.

"What in the - ?" Sprout asked, pointing at the ground.

McGonagall unwillingly pulled her eyes off her Seeker to look where Sprout indicated. Her eyes narrowed dramatically and her nostrils flared as she gazed upon three dementors – But why didn't it feel cold, and why weren't there more?

And then she saw it: a shock of platinum blonde hair peeking out underneath a hood. "I don't believe it!" she snarled. She had already opened her mouth to vent further, but a great silvery mass streaking down the pitch stopped her.

"A Patronus!" Sprout exclaimed as the silvery mass ran down the dementor impersonators. "Minerva, that was Potter!"

"GRYFFINDOR WINS!" Lee shouted joyously.

McGonagall looked back at the players on the field to see the whole of Gryffindor team trying to grab Harry to praise him. She had missed the catch. Now infuriated for multiple reasons, she stormed down onto the pitch to where Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Flint were fighting to disentangle themselves from the large robes they had gotten themselves into.

"**An unworthy trick!" **she yelled, quite beside herself. **"A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"**

Surely enough, Dumbledore walked onto the pitch, a look of utter disappointment on his face as he gazed down at the four Slytherins. "I thought I was going to absolutely lose my temper with more dementors on the grounds," he said.

"Oh, no," McGonagall snapped. "No more dementors. Just a bunch of idiots dressed in cloaks trying to get Potter to fall off his broom again! Where's Severus? I'd like a word with him! I don't think Flint and Malfoy should be allowed to play in the next match. They're obviously – "

"Minerva," Dumbledore interrupted. "I think you should go arrange their detention."

"Very well," McGonagall said. "Perhaps Hagrid will have something for them to do in the forest." As she walked away, she was pleased to note a look of terror even on Flint's face.

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p><em>HA HA! Eight years out of the run, and now your team's the only one in the way, Severus, and Gryffindor's faired rather well against Slytherin in the past.<em>

_**We'll see, Minerva.**_

_And that trick your CAPTAIN participated in today – If Albus hadn't interfered... Which reminds me, Albus – _

How did I know? I saw three clumsy figures in black going across the lawn. I figured they were up to no good, dementors or not.

_Hagrid wouldn't take them for detention. I don't suppose I can blame him, though. One of them was Malfoy. Poppy agreed, though._

I think I'd take Hagrid and the Forbidden Forest over Poppy after what they did!

_I would too._

_Filius, your team played very well._

_Yes, they did. There's always a winner and a loser, however, so I've no hard feelings, if that's what you're getting at._

_It was. You mentioned before how angry people get over a silly thing like Quidditch. I don't think it's all that silly, but – _

Says former Quidditch player and fanatic. What'd you think, Remus?

**I think Harry flew very well, and a rather lot like James. **

He wasn't doing flips every two seconds. What are you talking about?

_Do not get her started, Remus._

Oh! You're referring to how Potter kept allowing himself to be blocked by Chang? Yes, very interesting, don't you think, Minerva?

_All I can say is that I'm grateful they're not in the same year or house so you can't do anything without being obvious. _

Yes, I remember James was often sidetracked during games by girls he thought to be pretty. Mostly Lily, though.

**It made her all the less willing to go out with him every time he dropped the Quaffle. No matter how many times I explained it to him, it just wouldn't get through his head.**

_**Perhaps you should have tried cracking it open with a bludger, as that's about what it would take to get through Potter's head!**_

**I don't think even a bludger could have gotten a person into James's head until his sixth year. **

While Potter's flying was decent apart from all the being cut off, I was more referring to that Patronus, Remus.

**Harry's progressing very well. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't proud.**

_Such advanced magic rather proves that Potter's talented, don't you think, Severus?_

_**Had there been real dementors, I might consider being slightly impressed.**_

_I – Oh, I don't believe it. They're all still awake!_

Hmmm?

_The students are still celebrating up in the tower._

So go get them. Every party has a pooper, that's why Albus hired you!

…_Are you drunk, Pomona?_

No, and I'm going to prank you for that suggestion.

_Thanks for the warning._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Happy New Year! ...Unless you're Chinese... in which case, happy _almost_ New Year!

Let's start this year off right... with a review! ;)


	47. Chapter 47

_**FORTY SEVEN – Gryffindor Versus Ravenclaw, Snape's Grudge**_

McGonagall had just been about to fall asleep when a portrait on her wall called out. "Minerva!"

Groaning, McGonagall reached over, grabbed her wand, and lit it. "What?" she snapped at the quite innocent picture. It was the Fat Lady, who had graciously agreed to keep McGonagall posted on the happenings of the Gryffindor common room even after her portrait had been slashed.

"They're awake again," the Fat Lady said. "A whole load of them, and it sounded like even more were getting up.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," McGonagall muttered, swinging her feet around onto the floor and into her slippers. "Thank you," she told the Fat Lady as nicely as she could manage in her current mood.

The Fat Lady left the picture frame and McGonagall threw open her door, stormed to Gryffindor Tower, snapped the password at Sir Cadogan, and entered. **"Now really, enough's enough! I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!" **she said, rounding on the Head Boy, who was among those awake.

"**I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor!" said Percy, puffing himself up indignantly. "I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare – "**

"**IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron yelled. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"**

Panic struck somewhere deep inside McGonagall, but she assured herself she was being silly. Surely Black wouldn't risk coming into the castle again, and surely he wouldn't mistake Ron for Harry…

"**Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?" **she finally managed to ask.

"**Ask him!" said Ron, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. "Ask him if he saw – "**

McGonagall still thought the whole tale was unlikely. How could Black have gotten into the castle a second time? None the less, she went back outside to speak to Sir Cadogan.

"**Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"**

"**Certainly, good lady!" cried Sir Cadogan.**

McGonagall suddenly felt as though someone had thrown her into the lake and her nerves began to eat at her horribly. **"You – you **_**did?**_** But – but the password!"**

"**He had 'em!" said Sir Cadogan proudly. "Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!"**

McGonagall's blood, which just a moment ago might as well have been ice water, boiled in an instant as anger rushed through her. She reentered Gryffindor Tower and was certain she had the rapt attention of all her students as they looked at her in silent horror. **"Which person," she said, her voice shaking, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"**

There was silence, then Neville Longbottom slowly raised his hand.

McGonagall could not find any words appropriate to say to Neville at that point, so she barked at her students to stay put in the tower and hurried off. Wand drawn, she ran through the castle up to Dumbledore's office and pounded loudly on the door. "Albus! _Albus!_"

The door swung open and she leapt in. "Albus! Where are you? This is highly important!"

Dumbledore entered his main office from a side chamber and smiled politely at his deputy. "Pleased though I am to see you, Minerva, I have to wonder what – "

"Black's gotten in _again!_" McGonagall burst. Dumbledore's face fell and grew dark in the blink of an eye. "Longbottom had written down the passwords for the week, lost them, and Black found them. Sir Cadogan let him in! Ron Weasley said he woke up with Black standing over him with a knife!"

"Wake everyone else," Dumbledore said. "Search." He went over to his desk and began writing a letter.

McGonagall ran back through the castle, throwing her fist into doors and demanding immediate action. The roused staff members quickly threw on their robes and jammed their feet into slippers before whipping out their wands and joining the search. For hours they scoured the castle, teeth on edge, before finally reconvening in the entrance hall with a complete lack of news.

Dumbledore faced his anxious staff with quite the calm composure, all things considered. "Security will be increased," he said reassuringly. "In the mean time, Minerva, please go and inform Gryffindor House that Black is no longer in the castle. Argus, I think we'd do well to close up everything we can. If anyone can think of anything else that would be helpful, please come forward to discuss it with me."

McGonagall swept off to Gryffindor Tower as Flitwick approached Dumbledore, talking about some complex charm he might try on the doors.

"Did you find the scoundrel you were looking for?" Sir Cadogan asked when McGonagall approached him once more.

"No, you blithering idiot, we did not!" she snapped. "I daresay you won't be here very much longer, so I hope you're not too comfortable." She barked the password and was let into the common room, where she was immediately assaulted with questions.

"Did you find him?"

"Did he get away?"

"How'd he get in?"

"Black was not found," she called loudly over the students. "He has escaped again. Rest assured measures will be taken to prevent him from entering this Tower again. Now please, go back to your beds and get a few hours of sleep!" She left the common room before more could be asked of her.

Emotions stretched to the brink and completely exhausted, McGonagall dragged herself to the staffroom, still in her night clothes, and fixed herself a cup of strong coffee before sitting down with Flitwick, Sprout, Lupin, Snape, and Burbage, who were all already engaged in a conversation.

"But _how_ could he have gotten in?" Burbage asked. "And he just _happened_ to find a list of passwords to the common room he wanted to get into?"

"Very unlikely indeed," Snape said, looking suspiciously over at Lupin.

"It was Longbottom," McGonagall said. "He managed to convince Sir Cadogan to give him all the passwords and then lost the list."

"And Cadogan let him in?" Lupin asked.

"He's not guarding the portrait hole of _my_ students anymore," McGonagall spat. "I don't care what it's going to take; I'm getting the Fat Lady back in there. At least she's got some sense!"

"The question still remains of how Black got in a second time," Snape said.

"James and Sirius knew every possible way in or out of the castle," Flitwick said. "Is there a secret passageway we don't know about, Remus?"

"I didn't usually accompany James and Sirius when they snuck out of school," Lupin said, looking into his coffee as he stirred it.

"There's _something_ we're missing," Sprout said.

"Answers," McGonagall agreed.

"You said Black was standing over Weasley?" Flitwick asked.

McGonagall nodded. "With a knife."

"That brings up two more questions, then," Flitwick reasoned. "How is it at all possible that Black's getting in without a wand, and why didn't he just kill Weasley when he started screaming?"

McGonagall's stomach lurched unpleasantly and she put the turnover she had been about to bite into back down on the table.

"What's to say he doesn't have a wand?" Burbage asked. "He could have stolen it from someone somewhere."

"Then why didn't he use it when he was in the Tower?" Flitwick parried with another question.

"You brought up a point I hadn't thought about before, Filius," Sprout said. "Why _didn't_ Black just shut Weasley up? It's not like he's afraid to kill. He's proven _that_ before."

"Maybe he lost some of his nerve in Azkaban," Burbage suggested.

"No, he'd have become even more insane, that I can guarantee you," Lupin said darkly.

"Then what held him back? There were five unarmed boys in that room, and most of them were asleep! He really could have just done Weasley in and moved on until he found Potter," Sprout said.

"Weasley yelled loud enough to wake up the whole Tower," McGonagall said, feeling more than a little off color. "Black would have had to get through all of Gryffindor to get back out of the Tower and by that point all of us would have been up. He knew he had to get out quickly."

"What are you going to do about Longbottom, Minerva?" Snape asked, an unpleasant sort of smile on his face in anticipation of what punishment was to befall the poor boy.

McGonagall's whole face tightened. In the midst of talking about how all her third year boys could have had their throats slashed, she had completely forgotten about Neville's tremendous blunder. "First," she said, setting her coffee cup down none too gently and rising, "I'm going to write to Augusta."

"And then?" Snape prodded.

"And then I'm going to make sure Longbottom doesn't ever do something so incredibly stupid again!" McGonagall fumed before striding out of the staff room.

Within hours it was all over the school that Neville had been banned from Hogsmeade, gotten detention, was not allowed to know the password to his own common room anymore, and that his Head of House was beyond furious with him.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I was going to update yesterday... but my computer and I had an argument, so that ended up not happening. Sorry! You can give my computer an e-kick, if you want. I wouldn't mind/blame you!

Reviews are gorgeous. So are you! ;)


	48. Chapter 48

_**FORTY EIGHT– Snape's Grudge, The Quidditch Final**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p>I'm surprised it took Augusta a whole two days to get a Howler to poor Neville.<p>

_Poor? That boy deserved it! He could have gotten half of Gryffindor killed!_

_**Wh – **_

_Don't you dare say anything to that, Severus. _

You know Neville's clumsy and forgetful! He didn't mean any harm. Sir Cadogan –

_I really don't want to see or hear that name ever again. Praise be that his home is up by the North Tower! Come to think of it, that's probably a contributing factor to his insanity._

But now poor Neville's got to sit outside the common room with those security trolls until someone opens the door for him!

_I still have no sympathy._

You're an awful human being.

_I think Black will have quite the job getting into the castle, let alone the Gryffindor Common room now. The doors recognize him and won't open for him._

_Now he'll just scale a wall._

Good thing the windows only open from the inside!

_Oh, for crying out loud…_

What now?

_Potter and Weasley still aren't talking with Granger, I have them in class now. I was sure that Black's almost killing the boys would end their ridiculous argument._

**Ron thinks Hermione's cat's killed his rat, I believe.**

_Well the boy's being ridiculous. What else did he expect? And that rat's been in the Weasley family forever. It was probably going to die within the year anyway._

**How long have the Weasleys had it?**

_I don't know, but it was Percy's before it was Ron's. _

I'm surprised that lasted as long as it did with Ron Weasley. He's not very careful with his possessions, I've noticed.

_No, he's not. And if I hear the names Crookshanks or Scabbers again, I'm banning pets from Gryffindor._

* * *

><p><strong>++DAY OF HOGSMEADE VISIT++<strong>

_**What on earth was Potter doing with an old trick of yours and your friends, Lupin?**_

**I haven't a clue, Severus.**

_**And how did he get his hands on it?**_

**I don't know.**

_**Are you certain about that? Are you sure it didn't just slip out of your briefcase and into his book bag at some point?**_

**That "old trick" was taken by Filch ages ago. I have absolutely no idea how Harry got it.**

_**What's on that parchment, Lupin?**_

**I don't think that's of any importance.**

_**Isn't it? Do you know what I was told today?**_

**No. Do enlighten me.**

_**Mr. Malfoy saw Potter's head in Hogsmeade. Would you care to explain how that happened?**_

**I can offer no explanation other than Mr. Malfoy might be a bit unstable.**

_**That's a lie and you know it! That parchment told Potter how to get out of the school!**_

_What's this?_

_**Potter was seen in Hogsmeade today!**_

_What? That's ridi – _

_**Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle spotted his head by the Shrieking Shack with Weasley.**_

…_His head?_

_**Have you forgotten Potter's father's Invisibility Cloak he paraded around in all the time? Do you think – **_

_That Cloak is lost, Severus! It wasn't found at the Potters' house._

_**Well maybe they lent it to a friend. It would explain a lot.**_

**James wouldn't have given the Cloak to Sirius!**

_**Potter wouldn't give, or do you think Black wouldn't have accepted? If it's the latter, he's deceived you before and it would not be surprising if he did again.**_

**Traitor or not, Sirius would have bragged about having the Cloak and would have been certain to have fun with it. AND it would have been found at his place when it was searched.**

_**Then where's it gone?**_

_No one knows, but Potter doesn't have it now, so you can drop that theory. _

Have you any proof Mr. Potter was in Hogsmeade, Severus?

_**Three students – **_

_Three students that only last week tried to pull a prank on Potter that resulted in them losing fifty points and getting detention! Did you think of that, Severus?_

_**Potter also had a whole load of Zonko's products in his pockets.**_

Mr. Weasley likely bought them last time he was in Hogsmeade. 

_**So Potter's been carrying them around all this time?**_

I think that unlikely. However, seeing as all the other students were off at Hogsmeade, it might have seemed appropriate to him to carry a bit of Hogsmeade around with himself. 

_**So no one believes me. Again.**_

_There's simply no way Potter could have gotten there._

_**There was "no way" he could have been brewing Polyjuice with his friends last year, either.**_

**Even if Harry had gotten into Hogsmeade, which we cannot definitely prove, he will not be going back this year. That much I can guarantee.**

If this matter is cleared up, I have even more unhappy news.

_Might as well get it done and over with. What's the news?_

Buckbeak has been sentenced to death.

_No! Oh, Hagrid must be crushed!_

_There'll be an appeal, though! There's still a chance…_

_Not with Lucius pitted against him. _

_When's the appeal, Albus?_

Neither the appeal nor the execution date have been fixed.

_Well, it'll take them some time. Hagrid might be able to work up a good enough defense before the appeal._

_What did Hagrid tell you about the actual hearing, Albus?_

He's not very happy with himself. He said he kept dropping his papers and such.

_Does he know there was nothing he could have done?_

He didn't need me to tell him, but he was right to try.

_He's not fit to see anyone now, is he?_

I think we'd best leave him alone for a while, yes.

I'll just keep an eye on him whenever I'm out at the greenhouses, shall I?

I think that might be a good idea, Pomona.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Hi. I didn't update for so long because of (insert excuse here). Review anyway! ;)


	49. Chapter 49

_**FORTY NINE – The Quidditch Final**_

Flitwick sat in his office upon a stack of books so that he might be able to write at his desk properly. He was in a particularly good mood, having been hit by a few stray Cheering Charms during his lesson with the third years. Someone knocked on his door and he opened it with a flick of his wand.

"Ah! Miss Granger," he greeted. "I was wondering where you were during class today. You missed Cheering Charms. I think it'd be a _very_ good idea to practice them; they have a nasty habit of showing up on exams."

"I'm sorry, Professor," Hermione said, very evidently in distress about missing his class. "I – er – fell asleep and forgot to come to class. It won't happen again, I promise you – "

"I'm not upset, Miss Granger," Flitwick said as calmly and as soothingly as possible, as his student seemed to be at her wit's end. "Misters Potter and Weasley will easily be able to catch you up. I'll admit I'm glad you got a bit of extra sleep. You need it.

"Now, you best be off to your next class, Miss Granger."

"Thank you, Professor!" said Hermione.

As the student left the office, the professor pulled a plain old notebook out of one of his drawers.

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p><em><span>Minerva? I think there's something you ought to know.<span>_

_No. _

_What?_

_No. Whenever someone says that it means I'm about to lose a bit of my mind, and as I don't have very much of it left, I'm perfectly content not to know whatever it is you think I ought to._

_Miss Granger managed to miss Charms today. _

_Damn it, Filius! I said I didn't want to know._

_Yes, but you needed to know, so I told you._

_You could have broken it to me a little less harshly._

_Did you want me to make you guess?_

_NO!_

_Then I don't know what other way I would have told you._

_That girl's trying to do too much and it's going to get more than just herself in trouble! If she slips up with that Time-Turner…_

_It was an accident. She fell asleep._

_Well, Merlin knows she needs – Oh, for heaven's sake. Someone's knocking. _

_You'd better get it, then._

* * *

><p>"Miss Granger!" McGonagall said, somewhat surprised as she threw a notebook into her desk drawer. "What are you doing here when you have – " McGonagall consulted Hermione's schedule which, for various reasons, she nearly always had handy, " – three classes you're supposed to be in at the moment?"<p>

"I've dropped Divination," Hermione said matter of factly.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Just now? In the middle of term?"

"I couldn't take Pro – I couldn't take that class anymore," Hermione said.

McGonagall raised her other eyebrow. "Might I ask what finally prompted you to leave?"

Hermione huffed and finally sat herself down in the chair across McGonagall's desk. "Professor Trelawney was being more ridiculous than usual today, that's all," she said carelessly.

McGonagall frowned. She hadn't thought Hermione capable of speaking negatively about a teacher, especially in front of another teacher. "You're sure you're not going to go back?"

"Positive," Hermione said without hesitation. Her cool façade broke and her eyebrows drew together in a most sincerely annoyed fashion. "I'm tired of her fabricated predictions and her nothing short of determination to scare Harry to death!"

"Scare Potter to death?" McGonagall asked.

"She started us on Orbs today because 'the fates informed her' they would be on the exams –" here Hermione paused to scoff, " – and she came over to my, Harry's and Ron's table and then said she saw the Grim in Harry's Orb. I …_expressed _my exasperation, she called me 'hopelessly mundane,' and I left."

McGonagall cleared her throat to keep from laughing or smiling. "A lesser person than myself might tell you 'I told you so,' Miss Granger. I warned you about Divination.

"I'll take it off your schedule; you don't have to do anymore work for the class," McGonagall said, trying to sound disappointed in her student, but not succeeding very well.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said. She rose and left.

Once the door closed, McGonagall whipped her notebook back out.

* * *

><p><em>FILIUS!<em>

_Well? Who was knocking?_

_Hermione Granger!_

_Uh oh…_

_She's dropped Divination!_

_Marvelous! What'll be next?_

_I'll have to talk to Charity and see if she can get Miss Granger to drop Muggle Studies._

_Wait… it was Sibyll's fault Granger dropped?_

_She pushed Granger over the edge._

_I daresay everyone's happier this way._

_Probably so. Pomona? Where are you? You've usually popped up out of nowhere by now…_

Some of us are teaching, so if you don't mind…

_Oh, very well. I'll just tell you later._

No! No, you'll tell me now.

_No, now really, Pomona! You've got a class to teach!_

Minerva McGonagall, -

_Pomona, how do you even have your Notebook out during a herbology class?_

If I told you I'd have to kill you, Filius. Now tell me, Minerva!

_Really, it's not all that urgent, it can wait._

You've got thirty seconds before I accidentally on purpose tell Fred and George how to get into your office after you've locked it up for the night.

_You're not that cruel, Pomona._

Am I not?

_No. Because then I would retaliate most severely and you would sincerely regret telling the twins how to get into my office._

Then let the war begin.

_No! That I will absolutely not allow. If you don't tell her, Minerva, I will, simply to prevent the school flipping upside down completely. _

_Very well, Filius, for your sanity._

_Granger's coming to her senses, Pomona. She's dropped Diviniation._

Smart girl. That'd be the first class I'd drop! As a matter of fact, I would have dropped out of it after two weeks, especially with Sibyll teaching it. HOW that girl survived – NO! WEASLEYS YOU PUT DOWN THAT PLANT RIGHT NOW!

_I love it when they bother someone else…_

_How sad._

**Then you'll be most pleased to know that Fred and George set off a few dungbombs in my class yesterday, Minerva.**

_Did they really? _

**Yes. They seemed to think I'd find it amusing. **

_What goes around comes around._

**If what goes around comes around, what on EARTH did you do while you were at school?**

_That's beside the point._

**Not at all, really.**

_It's not a matter open for discussion, Remus._

Not for you. I'll gladly discuss it.

**Marvelous!**

_No you won't!_

Yes, I think I will. It's a rather intriguing collection of stories, what you did while you were at school.

_And not a collection that I'd particularly care to be spread around._

**My lips are sealed, I promise.**

_No._

I'm afraid you really have no say in the matter, Minerva, so – 

_Don't go challenging me, Albus. It doesn't typically end well for you._

I recall one time when Minerva was in her fourth year – 

_Shut UP, you crazy old man!_

Well, it was her and Pomona, really, but – 

_You know what? Fine. Go ahead and tell the story._

No, now you're just being too remarkably calm and you must explain.

_For every tale you tell, I'll tell one about you as well, and don't think I don't have stories to tell about you._

Then it seems we are in need of a truce. Truce?

_Truce._

**I'm usually an advocator for truces, but I have to admit I'm not at all enthused about this one.**

* * *

><p><strong>++NIGHT BEFORE QUIDDITCH FINAL++<strong>

_This Quidditch Cup needs to be done and over with already! I swear, if I have to break up another fight in the corridors…._

_**One of your Gryffindors got a Slytherin sent to the hospital wing today, you know?**_

_Yes, I do know. I also happen to know that my student was a fourth year and yours a sixth._

_**What's that supposed to mean, Minerva?**_

_Interpret that however you'd like, Severus. However, judging by the fact that my Seeker can't get to a single class on time because the whole of my House is so concerned about him being harmed suggests that your House is the one causing all the trouble._

_**How very typical of you.**_

_Do you see a crowd escorting Malfoy to all his classes? Because I don't._

_**No doubt that crowd is just a group of Potter worshippers that simply wish to breathe the same air as their idol.**_

_Would you take a moment to recognize how utterly ridiculous you sound?_

Would the pair of you take a moment to stop arguing?

_No._

_**Certainly not.**_

Well no matter how the game plays out, you'll have plenty to argue about after it, so let's just hold off for a few hours, shall we?

_Fine, but after the game…_

_**Shall we place bets?**_

_Not this time. I'm too nervous for betting._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Sorry for the wait. Life's been standing over me threateningly with a baseball bat and taken every opportunity to hit me with it that it can. :P

I believe that rainbows are made out of reviews.


	50. Chapter 50

_**FIFTY – The Quidditch Final**_

"Would you eat _something_, Minerva? If I didn't know better I'd think you were playing in the Quidditch final yourself!" Sprout huffed at breakfast.

"I can't, Pomona," McGonagall said darkly, looking at a platter of bacon as though it had tried to curse her. "I won't be able to keep it down."

Just then the Gryffindor Quidditch team entered the Great Hall to loud applause.

"If you didn't plan on eating, why'd you come down here at all?" Sprout asked once the noise had died down.

"Because I was tired of pacing my office," McGonagall answered dully.

Sprout looked suspiciously at her colleague. "Don't tell me you didn't sleep!"

"I got some," McGonagall said defensively.

"How much is 'some', Minerva?"

"Enough to keep me going. You haven't seen Severus at all today, have you?"

"No, and don't you go looking for him! I don't think it'd be a good idea for you two to see each other now. You'll start shouting and all the students will hear and – "

"Yes, yes, enough," McGonagall said shortly.

"Did you hear that – "

"It's not worth trying to side track me, Pomona," said McGonagall dismally. "I haven't been able to think about anything but this match since the end of class yesterday."

Sprout sighed heavily and gave her attention back to her plate of food. After a short while longer, the Gryffindor team walked out of the Hall, again to cheers and applause.

"Good Lord, I hate the look on Flint's face," McGonagall suddenly burst.

Sprout scanned the Slytherin table and found Flint talking to his team with a rather ugly sneer on his face. "I'm sure your team will wipe the look off his face on the pitch."

"Don't get my hopes up."

"Your hopes are up, or you wouldn't be so nervous. _Eat something!_"

"You eat something!" McGonagall childishly bit back.

"I have!" Sprout said indignantly, gesturing to the crumbs on her plate.

McGonagall looked out one of the windows. "It's probably time to go out to the pitch now, anyway. Come on."

Sprout looked quizzically at McGonagall as they rose from the table. "Haven't you got any Gryffindor apparel you're bringing?"

McGonagall shot a glare at Sprout. "I've got a flag. I shrunk it. It's in my pocket."

"Oh, good. I was wondering who you were and what you did to Minerva McGonagall," Sprout said rather conversationally.

"I don't know where she is, currently," McGonagall muttered. "If you find her, let me know."

"You're being rather dramatic today," Sprout commented.

McGonagall chose not to respond and she and Sprout continued down to the pitch without a word. Once seated McGonagall pulled a shrunken Gryffindor flag out of her pocket, waved her wand at it until it grew to an impressive size, then hung it over the side of the stands.

"I found Severus," Sprout said dully. She gestured over to the other side of the pitch where Snape sat in the front row of the Slytherin section, wearing green like the rest of his house.

McGonagall glared across the pitch at Snape, who noticed and merely looked away.

"If Gryffindor loses…" McGonagall let her sentence trail off.

"Then all of Slytherin will be beaten into silence before the week is out by the other three Houses," Sprout said. "Now look, here come the players!"

"**And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as commentator as usual. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years – "**

McGonagall's stomach twisted nervously as Slytherin shouted out loudly enough to drown Lee's voice. She watched her students line up anxiously and wondered what kind of damage they'd be sent to Madame Pomfrey with before the day was up.

"**And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He's made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill – "**

Even if Slytherin hadn't drowned Lee out again, McGonagall wasn't sure she would have shut him up, because she found himself agreeing whole heartedly. The size of the Slytherin players compared to her own did nothing to soothe her nerves.

Flint and Wood shook hands, then both teams took to the sky.

"**And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no – Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field – WHAM! – nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by – Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina – nice swerve around Montague – **_**duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger! **_**– SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"**

McGonagall found herself cheering along with the rest of the crowd as Angelina zoomed away from the Slytherin end of the pitch. Her smile quickly flipped as Flint crashed into Angelina and very nearly knocked her off her broom.

"Like he didn't – " McGonagall was cut off her rant as Fred Weasley threw his Beater's club at Flint, causing the Slytherin captain to smash his nose into his broom handle.

"Were you about to say 'Like he didn't see her', Minerva?" Sprout asked innocently.

"Oh, shut up," McGonagall snapped. "You're on my side, aren't you?"

Alicia Spinnet took the penalty shot for Gryffindor, Flint for Slytherin. Alicia scored and Flint missed, much to the happiness of three quarters of the crowd.

"Why's Potter bothering with the Snitch already?" Sprout asked as she noticed Harry flying around, eyes scanning the pitch.

"Because he's got to keep Malfoy away from it until Gryffindor's fifty up or we'll still lose," McGonagall explained shortly, not yet sparing her Seeker a glance. She was far too focused on her other six players.

"**Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession – no! – Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field – THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"**

Montague of Slytherin had cut Katie off and grabbed her head instead of the Quaffle. McGonagall made to rise to shout at Montague from the stands, but Sprout pulled her back into her seat.

"You're a teacher, Minerva," Sprout forcefully reminded. "Let Rolanda supervise the match. You supervise Jordan."

McGonagall took several deep breaths and clapped appropriately as Katie made the penalty shot given her.

"**THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING – "**

"**Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way - !" **McGonagall snapped at the livid boy beside her. Never could she admit she desperately wanted Jordan to finish his thought.

"**I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"**

Harry caught McGonagall's attention as he streaked across the pitch. "_No!_" she thought desperately. "_We're not up enough! No! Drop it!_" Her thoughts changed to something too inappropriate to express as both Slytherin Beaters closed in on Harry with their clubs raised. At the last moment, however, Harry shot upward and the Beaters collided with a crunch.

"**Ha haaa!" yelled Lee Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle – Flint alongside her – poke him in the eye, Angelina!"**

McGonagall looked sharply at Jordan and made to open her mouth to yell at him, but he caught himself quickly.

"**It was a joke, Professor, it was a joke – oh no – Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save - !"**

As Flint scored, Lee swore badly. McGonagall reached out, grabbed the magical megaphone in Lee's hands, and began to pull it away from him with an outraged look on her face.

"**Sorry, Professor, sorry!" **Lee said quickly, and wrenched the megaphone out of his professor's hands. **"Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession – "**

Sprout had to grip McGonagall's arm and forcibly hold her in her seat, all the while reminding her that she had to stay calm, as Bole, Beater of Slytherin, hit Alicia Spinnet with his club. McGonagall was somewhat pacified after George Weasley elbowed Bole in the face for revenge. A Chaser from each team took a penalty. Wood blocked Slytherin again, and Gryffindor scored again.

"Minerva! No! Sit _down_!" Sprout said through her teeth after both beaters of Slytherin aimed Bludgers at Wood and caught him in the stomach.

McGonagall had to content herself with Hooch shouting for her.

"**YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!" [Hooch] shrieked at Bole and Derrick. "Gryffindor penalty!"**

McGonagall clapped so hard her hands turned red as Angelina Johnson made the penalty shot and Alicia Spinnet scored just moments after, bringing the score to seventy-ten in Gryffindor's favor. They were more than fifty points up. If Harry caught the Snitch... She finally began to actually watch her Seeker roam the field.

Harry suddenly shot upward, and McGonagall's hopes flew with him, but Draco Malfoy managed to grab the end of Harry's broom, preventing him from climbing higher.

Sprout didn't bother trying to hold McGonagall back, so the Head of Gryffindor rose and began shaking her finger at Malfoy while shouting as loud as she could. She didn't even care that her hat had fallen off or that Lee had sworn again over the megaphone for the whole school to hear.

Alicia missed the penalty shot, which was quickly followed by Slytherin scoring.

McGonagall looked back at Harry to see that he and Malfoy were neck and neck and that he was blocking Malfoy from turning in any direction. She smirked.

"**Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina, COME ON!" **Lee shouted, bringing his professor's attention back to the Chasers.

McGonagall, despite the very raw feeling in her throat, prepared to shout more as five of the seven Slytherin players all flew toward Angelina at once. Her prepared exclamations turned to cheers as Harry flew out of nowhere straight at the glob of green, causing them to scatter.

"**SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty points to twenty!" **Lee screamed.

McGonagall looked up toward Malfoy and suddenly felt extremely cold. The boy was pelting through the air. He'd seen the Snitch, and he had quite the head start on Harry. Without knowing she was doing it, McGonagall reached out, grabbed Sprout's arm, and clenched it tightly, deaf to the calls of the Herbology teacher to let go.

Harry managed to catch up with Malfoy. He pulled his hands off his broom, shoved Malfoy's arm out of the way, reached out, and _caught the Snitch!_

McGonagall let out a joyous cry and felt tears begin to roll down her face as the other Gryffindor players zoomed to Harry and grabbed him. She snatched the flag she had placed over the stands and hurried out to the pitch to congratulate her students. She lost sight of the players for a moment, but then they emerged triumphant on the shoulders of their supporters.

Overwhelmed with pride and joy, McGonagall began to cry even harder and used her Gryffindor flag to mop up her face. She spotted Dumbledore waiting with the Quidditch Cup and bounded over.

"Gryffindor won, Albus!" she exclaimed, or tried to. Her throat was so raw her shout was hardly louder than her normal voice.

"Yes, Minerva, I gathered," Dumbledore said with a smile.

The massive crowd moved forward and deposited the Gryffindor Quidditch team in front of Dumbledore, who presented Wood with the Cup. McGonagall was pleased to note that she wasn't the only one crying. Wood sobbed as he passed the Cup over to Harry, who hoisted it into the air for all to see.

To top everything off, McGonagall caught sight of Snape lurking in the shadows of the pitch for a moment before spitting on the ground and skulking away. She smiled broadly. Oh, would _he_ come to hate her in the coming days!

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Fltiwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p><em>Oh SEVERUS!<em>

_**No.**_

_Come on, now._

_**Absolutely not.**_

_Really, one simple word._

_**I'll give you two, and you won't like them.**_

_It starts with "c"…_

_**The phrase I'm thinking of starts with a different letter, actually.**_

And what letter is that, Severus?

_**Don't be naïve, Pomona.**_

_I would have said this word to you had you won, Severus, even though your team used such disgusting tactics. _

_**Disgusting tactics? Your beaters were throwing their clubs and elbows all over the place!**_

_Only because your players attacked first. Really, now. I'm in too good of a mood for you to bother me. One, simple word, and I'll leave you alone for at least an hour._

_**No.**_

_Not the word I'm looking for._

_**Rematch.**_

_What? No! Are you serious? Come on. Quit playing stupid._

_**I'm not playing anything. I'm simply ignoring your request.**_

**I'll say it, then. Congratulations to Gryffindor!**

What are you congratulating for, oh ye who was in Gryffindor?

**Oh, I'm just giving Severus a hint.**

_**I don't need a hint, Lupin.**_

**Then you can say the simple little word…**

Actually, that's not a very little word. It's pretty long, really.

_Shut up, Pomona._

Hey, don't you be mean to me! I've got a band of black and blue going around my arm because of you!

_You could have told me to let go!_

I DID!

_Well, then blame Severus. _

No, sorry. That's not going to work this time.

_I'm getting side tracked. Severus, say it._

_**No!**_

_Fine. I'll leave you alone for the whole day if you say it. Is that persuasion enough?_

_I'd take that offer if I were you, Severus. _

_**Fine.**_

_**Congratulations, Minerva.**_

_Thank you, Severus! Now I wonder where I'm going to put that Cup – _

_**You'll now shut up for the rest of the day.**_

_Oh, no. I said I'd leave you alone. I'm currently not bothering you directly, therefore I am leaving you alone and abiding by my word._

_**One day, Minerva. One bloody day you'll regret all this.**_

_Perhaps. But until that day comes, I'm going to enjoy this thoroughly._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Yay for Gryffindor! Yay for annoying Snape! But most of all... Yay for an update!

If you give me a review I'll put it up on my fridge. =)


	51. Chapter 51

_**FIFTY ONE – Professor Trelawney's Prediction (sort of… not really)**_

McGonagall massaged her temples. She hated career advice. It gave her loads of headaches and, while it was interesting to find out what all the students planned on doing with their lives, it was quite the hassle to argue with them and tell them what grades they needed to raise, or to point out that their chosen career path would be rather difficult because they hadn't taken a class they should have.

The Transfiguration mistress sighed and consulted her schedule for her next appointment. Someone might as well have smacked her in the head with a hammer as she looked down at the name Fred Weasley. George Weasley was right after Fred.

Panic stricken, McGonagall looked at her clock to see if she had time to run down to Sprout and vent quickly, but she did not. If Fred were to be on time, he would arrive in two minutes.

Worse than being on time, Fred came early.

"Good afternoon, Professor!" he said cheerily, coming into the office and sitting down in the chair opposite McGonagall.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall responded crisply. "You know why you're here, so let's – "

"If I may, Professor," Fred interrupted in a surprisingly polite manner, "you're going to hear the exact same thing from George as you will from me. Why not just lump us together and get this career advice business done and over with a little sooner?"

McGonagall studied Fred's face for a moment, weighing her options. It would be marvelous to have some extra time to grade a few essays, or even just sit and wait quietly for the pain to recede from her head, but putting students together for career advice sessions was inadvisable.

"Really, Professor," Fred said, a smile beginning to spread across his face. "You'll feel as though you've gone back in time when George comes in here."

"Oh, alright," McGonagall conceded. "Go grab George."

"Oi!" Fred shouted over his shoulder without getting up. "George! Get in here!"

George opened the door to McGonagall's office and leapt through it. McGonagall considered being surprised that her answer had been predicted so well, but cast the thought aside and raised her wand to draw a chair for the second twin.

"Oh, no need, Professor. Your chairs are really rather uncomfortable," George said with an irritating smile, stopping his professor. He drew his own wand and twirled it through the air until something resembling a bean bag chair materialized and dropped onto the floor. George sank into it comfortably and waited.

McGonagall shook her head slightly. "Very well. Now that I've got the pair of you, what are you planning on doing after Hogwarts?"

"Well that depends," said Fred.

"Do you want us to give you our answer or our mum's?" George asked.

McGonagall decided she did not care that students were in front of her and closed her eyes to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Your mother's," she said unwillingly.

"Mum wants us to go into the Ministry," Fred said readily.

"We've been humoring her and telling her that we'll look into joining the Accidental Magic Reversal Department," George continued.

"We think that accidental magic is hilarious, you see."

"Out of all the departments, it'd probably provide the most entertainment."

McGonagall finally opened her eyes and moved aside a few of the leaflets covering her desk before she found the one she wanted and flicked it open. "You'd need to get into NEWT level Charms, Transfiguration, and Muggle Studies, which you have not taken."

"Yeah, but we've got Dad," Fred pointed out.

"We'll just hang around with him out in his shed over the summer," said George.

"We'll learn loads more that way then by sitting through class," Fred explained.

"Nothing against Professor Burbage, of course," George said with a little mock bow of his head.

"Even so," McGonagall continued, "your marks in Transfiguration are a below what they should be if you want to continue my class. I require Exceeds Expectations."

"And Charms?" Fred asked.

"Your Charms grade needs a bit of work, as well."

"Well, Gred," said George, "why don't you study up Charms, and I'll study up Transfiguration?"

"Aw, why do you get to take McGonagall's class another two years?" Fred mocked whining.

"Enough," McGonagall said exasperatedly. "Much as you'd like to hear differently, the Ministry will not consider you a packaged deal. If only one of you has the required grades, only one of you will get in."

"Aren't we in a pickle then, Forge?" Fred asked.

"Quite, Gred," George replied while shaking his head dramatically.

The twins looked politely at McGonagall, waiting for her response. She very much did not want to ask the next question, but as she could not get the twins to seriously consider their Ministry option…

"And what is it that _you_ want to do after Hogwarts?" she asked as though afraid to hear the answer.

"That's easy," said Fred.

"Open our own joke shop," George said.

McGonagall very nearly took off her glasses to put her face into her hands, but resisted. "Open your own joke shop?"

"Can't you see it, Professor?" Fred asked. "Me and Georgie wandering around a big floor in nice suits –

"People pouring in the doors – " George continued painting the picture.

"Children trying out products – "

"Adults trying out products – "

"Future Hogwarts students looking for something that might get their professors to laugh – "

"Yes, yes, that's a _lovely_ picture, boys," McGonagall said tersely. "I've no doubt that if anyone in this school were to open a successful joke shop, it'd be you two, – "

"Really, Professor, you're making us blush," George interrupted with a grin.

"However," McGonagall continued on as though she had not been interrupted, "grades aside, you'd need an inordinate amount of gold to buy a shop, materials, hire a staff – "

Fred waved his hand carelessly through the air. "Trifling matters, Professor."

McGonagall looked suspiciously at her students. "How do you plan on procuring this gold, might I ask?"

"Through perfectly legal and morally sound methods, Professor," George assured.

"Molly Weasley's still our mother, don't forget," Fred pointed out.

McGonagall forced herself to drop the money issue. "What classes do you think you'll need, then?"

"Well, seeing as there's no sort of business class offered at Hogwarts," Fred said, "we were thinking Charms and Transfiguration, oddly enough."

"Herbology and Magical Creatures would be pretty useful too," George said.

"Potions would help out as well, but we've already discussed that and decided that Professor Snape'd probably kill us before he let us into his NEWT class," Fred finished.

"Your grades aren't high enough in that class, either," McGonagall muttered.

"What was that, Professor?" George asked.

"Never mind," McGonagall said at a normal volume. "Your Herbology and Creatures grades are up to scratch, but all the rest you'll have to put some serious effort into before exams if you want to take them up at NEWT level."

"You mean you won't let us in to your class without an E even though we're your favorite students, Professor?" Fred asked with a mock expression of hurt on his face.

"I'd be willing to make an exception for you two," McGonagall said. Before the twins could say anything, she spoke up louder, "I'd require Outstanding on your OWLs from the pair of you."

"That's cruel, Professor," George said, shaking a finger jokingly.

"Really, we ought to get Exceeds Expectations on every exam we show up for," Fred said.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Being the school's most prominent pranksters does not – "

"Oh, not because we're pranksters," Fred said quickly.

"Because we actually showed up for the exam," George explained, "which therefore exceeds what's expected of us."

McGonagall had had enough. "Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Transfiguration. Get all those grades up, and at least _try_ for Potions, would you?"

"Only because you asked, Professor," said Fred.

"Good. Now get out of my office," McGonagall said shortly.

"Right away, Professor!" George said cheerily. He and his twin rose and left the office as ordered while their professor lowered her head onto her desk, folded her hands over her head, and simply sat in silence.

* * *

><p><strong>+++WEEKS LATER+++<strong>

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p><em>I don't believe it…<em>

What?

_I just DON'T believe it!_

MINERVA! What?

_I just saw – _

I'm going to come to your office in about thirty seconds…

_I just saw Fred and George in the LIBRARY, and they were actually STUDYING!_

What? That's impossible! You must have been imagining!

_I wasn't! Clear as day, they were there working!_

_I was wondering why it was so remarkably quiet these past few days._

I love OWLs… getting the twins to buckle down and study… that's impressive.

**What is it they want to do after school, Minerva?**

_That depends. Do you want their answer or their mother's?_

**Well seeing as their answer is more likely the option they'll pursue…**

_They want to open a joke shop._

No! NO! SABATOGE THEM!

_Well it's that or Accidental Magic Reversal Department, and I really don't think they'd last long in the Ministry._

I think Misters Weasley would run quite the remarkable joke shop.

That's exactly my point.

I'm afraid I don't understand you, Pomona.

They're going to end up developing things that they'll purposely sell to Hogwarts students to drive us insane even after they've gone.

I'll openly admit that I'm interested to see what they'd come up with.

You really do want to drive us all mad, don't you?

What would I do with a mad staff, Pomona?

You'd find your uses, I'm sure.

_You'll be pleased to know, Severus, that the twins are smart enough to know they'd be unwise to continue on with your class._

_**Those two wouldn't pull off the required grades anyway.**_

_Not by YOUR standards. They really are quite brilliant, Severus, just a little misguided. Well, more than a little, I suppose…_

Your "brilliant" students are trying to open up a suit of armor on the third floor.

_Idiots._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

If that didn't make you happy I don't know what will!

Cool people leave reviews.


	52. Chapter 52

_**FIFTY TWO – Professor Trelawney's Prediction, Hermione's Secret, Owl Post Again**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Lupin**

* * *

><p><strong>I have something quite amusing to share with whoever's willing to listen.<strong>

Do tell!

**Are you here, Minerva?**

_Hardly. _

**Well, I'll take what I can get. Did you know that you're someone's boggart as well?**

_Oh, for the love of – I'm not THAT scary, am I?_

_**Yes you are.**_

_You've no room to talk, boggart of Neville Longbottom!_

_**I told you never to bring that up again!**_

_Don't provoke me, then!_

**Neville did very well on his exam.**

_**Longbottom…**_

_Go on, Remus. Let's have it. Who fears me above all else?_

**Hermione Granger.**

…

_What?_

**I was expecting a little bit more of a reaction, I must confess.**

_I've got students. What do you mean, I'm Hermione Granger's boggart?_

**She got marked down on her exam because she came out from attempting to deal with a boggart screaming, saying that you'd told her she'd failed everything.**

Let's not lie, I'm very amused.

_She should be in Ravenclaw._

_Except that she shouldn't be. _

_**A Gryffindor that can't handle a boggart…**_

_She's thirteen. Her boggart will change. Shut up._

You have one comforting thought here, Minerva.

_Do I?_

Miss Granger couldn't think of a way to make you funny.

… _I don't know how I want to react to that._

I'm still amused, either way.

Minerva, when you've finished with your current exam, Cornelius is here. 

_What would you have me do about it?_

He's here to get an update on how we're dealing with Black and because of Buckbeak.

_Oh, my goodness! I forgot about Buckbeak! Is the appeal today?_

Yes. At two.

_Wh – Merlin's beard! Did I just see Macnair through my window?_

That's very likely.

_But he's an executioner! That means that they plan on the appeal not going through –_

That's very likely, as well.

_That's just not fair!_

What would you have me do? I can't overrule Cornelius or the Committee for Disposal of Dangerous Creatures.

_If Lucius Malfoy can influence them, so can you!_

I am not willing to stoop down to Mr. Malfoy's level, Minerva.

_I know that. But there's got to be SOMETHING…_

I am going down to Hagrid's for the appeal now. Should anyone find a need for me, they'll simply have to wait.

* * *

><p><em>Well? The appeal?<em>

Lost.

_Oh no… When's Buckbeak - ?_

Sunset.

_So little notice?_

We've known for some time this would be coming, Minerva.

_You seem remarkably calm considering such an injustice is being done, Albus. That typically means you're planning something, and THAT typically means trouble for me. What are you up to?_

Nothing, Minerva.

_I never believe you when you say that._

A wise decision on your part.

_So you ARE planning something!_

…

_Albus?_

_Albus!_

_You – _

Infuriating old man. Yes, we all know, Minerva.

_WHY – _

Must I always pop up when you don't want me? Because that's what's the most fun.

* * *

><p><em>Past sunset… Albus, how's Hagrid?<em>

…_Albus?_

_Dumbledore… Where are you?_

…

_Are you ignoring me? _

_You're ignoring me._

_Frustrating old man…_

**Minerva?**

_What, Remus?_

…**Never mind.**

_What? You can't do that!_

**No, really. It's – it's not important. **

_You're a terrible liar, even on paper._

**I should be going.**

_Remus!_

…

_REMUS!_

_What on earth is going on here that everyone's ignoring me?_

* * *

><p>Fuming, as he usually was at full moon, Snape strode through the corridors to Lupin's office with a goblet of Wolfsbane. As he passed by Sprout's office, she called out a greeting to him, which he ignored.<p>

When Snape finally came to Lupin's office, he found the door open and walked over to the man's desk without any reservations to set the goblet down and leave, but what was sprawled out on the desk stopped him: a detailed map of Hogwarts with hundreds of labeled dots.

"And just where are _you_, Lupin?" Snape asked himself, scanning the map. He finally found Lupin's dot moving along a secret passageway out of the school. An unpleasant and cruel smile spread across Snape's face, then he was off.

Without running into anyone, Snape made his way out to the Whomping Willow. While in search of a branch long enough to freeze the vicious and blood-thirsty plant, Snape came across a forgotten cloak. He grinned again as he examined it. "Who ever knew you could be useful, Potter?" He flung the cloak over himself, found a branch, froze the willow, and entered the secret passageway.

Snape was too excited at the prospect of Lupin being thrown into Azkaban and finally catching Potter out-of-bounds that he hardly noticed the pain in his back from doubling over in the very long passage.

The trail ended and he climbed out without hesitation, the Invisibility Cloak still covering him. Various footprints in the thick layer of dust on the floor made clear to Snape what his path was. As he climbed a set of stairs, he began to hear familiar voices.

"…**and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list – " **said the accursed voice of Granger.

Snape sacrificed some stealth for speed and reached the top of the stairs as Lupin responded.

"**Right again, Hermione! But the Ministry never knew that there used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."**

Snape's mood rose even higher, then skyrocketed with the next voice.

"**If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus,"** Black's voice demanded. **"I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer."**

Snape's self-control was ebbing away quickly. He swore quietly at the shut door before him. How desperately he wanted to actually enter the room and see, with his own eyes, what would incriminate Lupin, Potter, Weasley, and Granger. After studying the door for another moment, he lost all patience and simply opened and slinked through it as Lupin began to speak.

Lupin broke off, then looked out the door. **"No one there…"**

"**This place is haunted!" said [Weasley]**, lying on the floor, his face green, and clutching a clearly broken leg.

"**It's not," said Lupin, still looking at the door in a puzzled way. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted…. The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me."**

Snape pulled out his wand, ready if need be, but settled in to listen to the story and gather more evidence with which to use against Lupin and his companions. The potions master smiled once again as Lupin's tale of his school years reached a peak.

"…**they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi."**

"**My dad too?" **Potter asked.

"**Yes, indeed," said Lupin.**

"_Criminals from a young age," _Snape thought with glee. Oh how sweet and complete his revenge would be, discrediting all four of the Marauders at the same time, turning even James from a hero to be admired to a long-time law breaker for all to know…

As Lupin carried on further, Snape turned his head to look at Black, whose eyes were positively glued to Weasley's rat, which was squealing at an incredible volume and trying desperately to get away from its master.

"**All this year," **Lupin said as Snape began to listen to him once again, **"I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me… and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have become shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it…so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."**

Snape relished committing Lupin's confession to memory. How joyous it would be to not only ruin Lupin's reputation further, but take away the trust that meant most to him, to leave him with nothing.

"**Snape?" said Black harshly. "What's Snape got to do with it?"**

"**He's here, Sirius," said Lupin heavily. "He's teaching here as well."**

Lupin launched into another story, this time of how Snape had fallen for the prank James Potter and Black had set up for him their fifth year, how Snape had come to owe James his life. The potions master's temper flared dramatically and he raised his wand at Lupin, still under the Cloak.

"**So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said [Potter] slowly **once Lupin had finished his tale, **"because he thought you were in on the joke?"**

"**That's right," **Snape finally spoke aloud, and pulled the Invisibility Cloak off himself. Granger screamed, Black popped onto his feet, and Potter looked absolutely stunned.

"**I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," **Snape said, throwing the cloak aside, relishing the look on Potter's face. **"Very useful, Potter, I thank you…**

"**You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here? I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did… lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glace at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."**

"**Severus – " **Lupin started, but Snape cut him off, absolutely refusing to be deterred.

"**I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout – "**

"**Severus, you're making a mistake," said Lupin urgently. "You haven't heard everything – I can explain – Sirius is not here to kill Harry – "**

But that was exactly what Snape did not want to hear, and so he cut Lupin off again. **"Two more for Azkaban tonight. I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this… He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin… a **_**tame**_** werewolf – "**

"**You fool," **Lupin said quietly, absolutely enraging Snape. **"Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"**

Snape lost what little remaining patience he had for Lupin and with a single flick of his wrist had the werewolf bound and gagged. Once he fell to the floor, Black rose and headed for Snape, but the potions master cut him off by pointing his wand straight between the criminal's eyes.

"**Give me a reason," **he said quietly, thoroughly hoping he would be given a reason. **"Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."**

Black stopped, and he and Snape looked at each other with all the hate they could muster.

"**Professor Snape – " **Granger said breathlessly, daring to take a step forward, **"it – it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w – would it?"**

In no mood to even attempt an "appropriate" tone for a teacher, Snape snarled back, **"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school. You, Potter, and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, **_**hold your tongue.**_**"**

Words could not express how great it felt to speak his mind to Granger, yet she ruined the moment by speaking again.

"**But if – if there was a mistake – "**

"**KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" **Snape yelled, the last thread of his self control breaking. **"DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" **

Sparks shot out the end of Snape's wand, displaying just how far he'd let himself go, but Granger shut up. He should have expected no less, he knew, he was so disliked by the trio and the remaining Marauders, but they would come to see that he was right, how foolish they all were, how they'd been duped by Black once again.

"**Vengeance is very sweet," **Snape enjoyed saying to Black. **"How I hoped I would be the one to catch you…"**

"**The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle, I'll come quietly…"**

Snape's lips spread to a far from pleasant smile once more. **"Up to the castle? I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black… pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay…."**

All color drained from Black's face, and Snape's pleasure grew.

"**You – you've got to hear me out," **Black said hoarsely. **"The rat – look at the rat – "**

"**Come on, all of you," **Snape said, ignoring Black. He snapped his fingers and the cords that bound Lupin floated to his hands. **"I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a kiss for him too – "**

Snape started for the door, but Potter crossed the room to stand in front of it.

"**Get out of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already. If I hadn't been here to save your skin – "**

"**Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year," **Potter said defiantly, and Snape felt his blood begin to boil again. **"I've been alone with him loads of times, having defense lessons against the dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then?"**

"**Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," **Snape said through his teeth. **"Get out of the way, Potter."**

"**YOU'RE PATHETIC! JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN – "**

"**SILENCE!"** Snape shouted back unreservedly. **"I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT! Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black – now get out of the way, or I will **_**make you." **_Potter remained resolutely in front of the door. **"GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"**

And then, quite suddenly, Snape found himself flying backwards, and the world went dark.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Have I appeased the Snape fans? ...likely not, but I'll pretend I have, anyway.

Review!


	53. Chapter 53

_**FIFTY THREE – Professor Trelawney's Prediction, Hermione's Secret, Owl Post Again**_

"Pomona," McGonagall said, popping her head into the woman's office, "you haven't seen Severus, have you?"

Sprout looked thoughtful for a moment. "Last I saw he was heading to Remus's office with the wolfsbane. Why?"

"I was just up with Poppy and she said Severus was supposed to drop a few potions by a while ago. I said I'd find him." McGonagall sighed, then sat down in the chair across Sprout's desk. "I suppose I'd better leave him alone for a while though. He's never happy after bringing Remus his potion."

"I think he'll be alright now," Sprout said, returning the bulk of her attention to the papers she'd been looking at. "I saw him almost an hour ago."

McGonagall furrowed her eyebrows. "An hour? He was supposed to bring Poppy the potions an hour and a half ago."

"Then he's being particularly moody or doesn't have everything done. Either way he won't want to see anyone," Sprout said absentmindedly.

McGonagall considered. Neither option seemed unlikely. "Are you done with that?" she asked, pointing at a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ laid out on Sprout's desk.

"No," Sprout said. "Don't you have exams to grade?"

"I've done all the first years," McGonagall said. "That was my goal for the day." She reached out, grabbed _The Prophet,_ and put her feet on Sprout's desk as she settled to read.

"Make yourself at home," Sprout said dully without looking up from the paper she was marking.

"As always," McGonagall said as she opened the paper. How much time went by before the two witches were disturbed, neither knew.

"Pomona, have you seen – " Dumbledore stopped short as he entered the office. "Ah."

"Are you looking for Severus too?" McGonagall asked with a raised brow.

"No," Dumbledore answered. "I happen to know where Severus is. Now – "

"You're about the only one," McGonagall interrupted. "Where's he been? Poppy's – "

"I need you to accompany me, Minerva."

McGonagall looked over at Sprout, who shrugged, and then rose to follow the headmaster. "What's this about, Albus?"

"Sirius Black has been captured," Dumbledore said.

"_No!_" McGonagall gasped, joy flooding through her. Black would be returned to Azkaban. He would no longer terrorize the school. "When? How?"

"I haven't yet had a chance to speak with Severus," Dumbledore said. "That is why I need you. We've put Black up in Filius's office, as it's so far out of the way of everything, and I need you to watch him while I speak with Severus."

McGonagall opened and closed her mouth several times. "Severus caught Black? _How?_"

"I've told you I don't know," Dumbledore said patiently. "I do believe you'll be pleased to know that, this year, you did not have to spend hours worrying yourself silly while Mr. Potter and his friends nearly died."

"_What?_" McGonagall burst loudly. "They almost got themselves killed _again?_ Why is it always them? What have they done now?" she asked aggressively. "Where are they?"

"Poppy has them," Dumbledore said. "They're unconscious, the lot of them, which is not at all unexpected considering the dementors, but – "

"Dementors?"

"Yes, they slipped back into the grounds again tonight," Dumbledore said. His eyes betrayed the fury he hid.

"But – but – "

"Once I figure out what has gone on, Minerva, I will inform you," Dumbledore said. The pair approached the hallway where Flitwick's office was located. Snape was standing in front of the office door, his wand out, a maniac gleam in his eye. "Minerva, please stand guard over Black. Severus, come."

McGonagall drew her wand and watched as Dumbledore and Snape entered a nearby empty classroom.

"Professor McGonagall?" a voice rasped, sounding hopeful.

McGonagall jumped and pointed her wand at the door.

"Professor – it's me! It's Sirius!"

"Should I be happy?" McGonagall asked harshly. "Keep yourself quiet. I'm no more pleased to see you than Severus!"

"I didn't – "

"Shut _UP!_" McGonagall screeched. She pointed her wand at the door and it glowed for a moment, then there was a loud bang as though something heavy had flown across the office and hit the wall opposite the door.

"No worse than Harry's reaction," Black wheezed from the depths of the office.

As McGonagall heard Black begin to shuffle around and make his way back to the door, she felt her nostrils flare and her hands form fists. How dare he…

"I would rather have died than betray James, Professor," Black said. "You've got to believe me – Harry does!"

"Harry doesn't know the atrocities you've committed, and don't you talk about him! You've no right!"

"He _does_ know!" Black said. "I wasn't their Secret Keeper, Professor! I convinced them to switch last minute! Everyone would have expected me. I had them use Worm – Pettigrew!"

McGonagall only scoffed.

"I know you think Pettigrew's dead," Black continued. "But that's a lie! He faked his death! He's an Animagus! He was the Weasley family rat since the night James and Lily were murdered! _He's_ the reason I've been coming! _He's_ what I was after! I wouldn't harm a hair on Harry's head! I'm his _godfather_, for crying out loud! James trusted me with his son's life! I wouldn't ever betray that trust!

"You've got to believe me, Professor!" Black continued desperately. "You've got to! You can convince Dumbledore, and Dumbledore can convince the Ministry! All this can be set right, and before Pettigrew finds Voldemort again!"

"The dementors did quite a number on you, didn't they, Black?" McGonagall asked coldly after a moment. His story couldn't possibly be any more ludicrous.

"I would have died rather than betray my best friend and his wife," Black moaned, losing his zeal. "I wouldn't harm Harry. I didn't mean for James and Lily to die…"

Somewhere deep down, McGonagall felt compassion stir for the pitiful and desperate sounding man, but the hatred she had built for him through the course of the year soon overwhelmed anything else she felt.

Snape suddenly flew past McGonagall's face, the maniac gleam still in his eye. She seemed to snap out of a trance and turned to look at Dumbledore, who had his hand set to open the door to Flitwick's office.

"Albus – "

"He does not have a wand, Minerva," Dumbledore said calmly. He then opened the door and entered the office. Try though she might, simply because she was concerned for Dumbledore's safety, of course, McGonagall could not hear a thing inside the office.

Dumbledore emerged from the office half an hour later. He gave no explanation, merely requested that no one be let in and left to find Fudge.

Curiosity ebbing away at her, McGonagall put her ear to the door, but she still couldn't hear anything. Dumbledore must have left whatever enchantments he had cast on the door.

Just a few minutes before midnight, Fudge and Snape appeared at the end of the hallway. Behind them was a pair of dementors.

"Well, Black," McGonagall said coldly, "I daresay you're about to get what's coming to you." She wasn't at all sure if Black had heard her or not, but she felt the necessity to say it anyway. "Minister," she greeted, trying not to look at the dementors behind him who were, remarkably, behaving themselves. Perhaps the promise of a soul was keeping them in check.

"Minerva," Fudge said. "Nasty business, nasty business."

"You'll be waiting for Dumbledore?" McGonagall asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, of course," Fudge said.

"What are you doing here, Severus?" McGonagall queried. Snape looked almost happy to have two dementors behind him, just outside the door where his old school rival was waiting…

Before Snape cold answer, Dumbledore strode into view.

"Shall we get on with it, then?" he asked.

McGonagall thought Dumbledore had a strange glint in his eyes, but was sure that now was not the time to ask him questions.

The headmaster opened the door and –

"_Where is he?_" Snape snarled. Black was not in the office. Snape turned on McGonagall. "You were here the whole time! Where's he gone?"

McGonagall wiped a fleck of Snape's spit off her face and looked coldly at her colleague. "You're not suggesting _I_ let him go, are you, Severus? I didn't hear _anything_ after Albus left! Not a single sound! I've been here the whole time, and I haven't opened this door once!"

"POTTER!" Snape suddenly bellowed, then dashed out of sight. Fudge was quick on his heels.

"Wha – Albus!" McGonagall burst.

"I promise I will explain, Minerva," Dumbledore said patiently. "In the mean time, I think I'd better go keep Severus in check." He left without another word.

McGonagall fumed silently for a moment, then slammed the door to Flitwick's office shut with all her might and stormed back down to Sprout's office.

Sprout looked up when McGonagall threw open her door. "Something bothering you, Minerva?"

"Yes, Pomona, something's bothering me," McGonagall bit out. "We had Black, and now he's gone, Potter's pulled _something _again, and Dumbledore's not telling me anything!"

"WHAT?" Sprout asked loudly. The two witches began jabbering madly, trying to weave an entire story out of the tiny scraps of fact they had.

"He can't have just disappeared," Sprout said a while into the jargon.

McGonagall nearly made a reply, but Dumbledore entered the office with Flitwick. "I could hear you clear down the corridor," he said. "I gather you're curious."

"_Yes!_" McGonagall and Sprout said at the same time.

"Where's Severus?" Flitwick asked.

"Severus is not in a fit state to see anyone at the moment," Dumbledore said.

"Hang Snape," McGonagall snapped. "_What's been going on this time?_"

Without further ado, Dumbledore launched into the thrilling tale of how three third years had come face to face with Black only for him to tell them that he was innocent, that Peter Pettigrew was the true culprit. He did not go into great detail, nor did he inform his staff members as to how Sirius might have escaped.

McGonagall felt her head spinning. "So now you want us to believe that Peter Pettigrew managed to fake his own death by way of being an illegal Animagus and that Sirius Black, who was witnessed killing Pettigrew, is innocent?"

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger all have the same story. Everything fits. Most convincing, however, is that Harry knows what Black is supposed to have done, and believes him innocent. I can think of no greater proof without having Pettigrew standing before us," Dumbledore reasoned.

"The word of three teenagers isn't going to convince very many people, Albus," Flitwick pointed out.

"Signs will start showing," Dumbledore said confidently. "Pettigrew will be off to whoever can protect him. As the Weasleys no longer will, he'll try to find Voldemort, I believe." He took no notice of his staff members flinching horribly and seemed to lose himself suddenly in thought.

"I don't like that look, Albus," McGonagall said.

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "It's nothing, Minerva. Merely an idea. Well, it's getting la– "

"No," McGonagall said flatly. "No! Not another idea!"

"It's rather late," Dumbledore said over his deputy as he rose. "Good night!"

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore! You are not walking away from me without telling me what this new idea of yours is!" McGonagall shouted as she followed Dumbledore out of Sprout's office.

"What do you think, Pomona?" Flitwick asked after a moment.

"Of Black?" asked Sprout. "It sounds too crazy to be made up, but I still don't know if I believe it. There's just no _proof_."

Flitwick nodded. "The unfortunate thing is that Albus usually ends up being right, and if he is, and if Pettigrew is alive and searching for You-Know-Who…"

"Let's hope he doesn't succeed in his endeavor, then, shall we?" Sprout suggested.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Oh, Snape. Poor Sour-Grape. So rarely do you have a reason to be happy... and when you do, it gets ruined!

...JK. I'm not _that_ sympathetic to Snape. After all, how sympathetic can you be for a person that gets excited about someone getting the soul sucked out of them?

-throws hands in air- I'm open! I'm open! Pass me the revie - ball! Pass it!


	54. Chapter 54

_**FIFTY FOUR – Owl Post Again**_

"Professor McGonagall," said Lupin, strolling into the woman's classroom in the morning, looking absolutely terrible.

"Remus!" McGonagall gasped. "Heaven's sake, you look awful!"

"I'm sure Ron looks worse. You should have seen all he managed to do with that broken leg. Have you been to see him yet?"

"Yes, of course! I saw them all last night. They were asleep, but I saw them. They'll all be just fine. When did you get back in?"

"Sunrise," Lupin said simply. "A little after, actually. I had to find my way back out of the forest."

"Well," McGonagall said matter of factly after clearing her throat, "Albus has convinced Fudge that you've done nothing wrong, and no one's seriously hurt, so all will go back to normal."

"You haven't heard yet," Lupin said, and hung his head with a sigh.

"Heard what, Remus?" McGonagall asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Word's gotten out that I'm a werewolf," said Lupin. He picked up his head and looked McGonagall in the eye sadly. "Last night was just too close a call. I've resigned."

"You're leaving?" McGonagall asked, clearly shocked.

Remus nodded. "I thought I'd come say good bye and thank you. Dumbledore told me it was your idea to look to hire me in the first place. I also wanted to give you this back." He pulled a plain black notebook out of his pocket with a torn cover. "I won't have use for it anymore."

McGonagall thought for a moment of fighting Lupin and trying to get him to stay, but knew that odds were against him and that, no matter what she might try, he would not return for another year. "You're going to keep in touch this time," McGonagall stated as she took the notebook and put it in her desk.

"I'll most certainly try," Lupin said with a half-hearted smile. He held out his hand. "It was a great pleasure to work with you this year, Professor McGonagall."

McGonagall got up, walked around her desk, and hugged Lupin. "I'm glad you were able to join us." The hug broke and Lupin looked rather awkward.

"I should go pack," he said. "I'm sure we'll meet again at some point."

"I am too," McGonagall said. After Lupin left her classroom, she went back to her desk and flipped open her original notebook.

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p><em>Remus resigned!<em>

After breakfast I'm not surprised…

_What happened at breakfast?_

Severus?

_**Yes?**_

Would you care to –

_**No.**_

Very well. I will. Severus took the liberty of informing the Slytherins this morning that Remus is a werewolf.

_YOU DIDN'T!_

_**Parents have a right – **_

_This has nothing to do with parents! You told them all as revenge!_

_**Prove it.**_

_I don't have to prove it! I know it and so do you._

What's done is done. We are not going to argue over it. It will accomplish nothing.

_All I can say is thank Merlin that term's almost over! I can't wait to get out of this castle and – _

Come back within a week.

_Shut up, Pomona._

* * *

><p><em>House Cup, third year running. Do you feel like you're about to explode yet, Severus?<em>

_**I am not going to dignify your question with an answer.**_

_Would you stop being so sour? It's been a week. Remus isn't coming back next year, Sirius isn't going to bother you. You've won. Let it go!_

_**They're all like boomerangs. They always come back, no matter how much you want them to go away.**_

_Then you'd best make peace with them. I promise you your life will be more enjoyable without putting so much effort into hating them._

_**My life would be much more enjoyable if they would stay out of it.**_

_Fine. I give up!_

* * *

><p>McGonagall sifted through the desk drawers in her office, trying to figure out what would be worth bringing with her over the summer holidays, when someone knocked on her door.<p>

"Come in," she called.

Hermione Granger walked in and sat down without an invitation to do so.

"Shouldn't you be packing, Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked somewhat absentmindedly as she pulled out a long forgotten stack of papers.

"I'm already packed, Professor," Hermione responded. She took the Time-Turner from around her neck and placed it on McGonagall's desk. "I've decided to drop Muggle Studies."

McGonagall picked up the Time-Turner and let it dangle off her hand. "You're sure?"

"Yes," Hermione said without hesitation. "I don't like having to keep secrets from my friends, I don't like having to sneak around, and I don't like being so stressed all the time about getting so much work done. I'd like to have a normal schedule."

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved," McGonagall said, putting the Time-Turner in the top drawer of her desk. "I'm glad you've trimmed down your schedule."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, starting to get up. "I'll just – "

"How is Mr. Weasley holding up with the loss of his rat for a second time?" McGonagall asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione fumbled over the beginnings of a sentence. "You – you know about that?"

"Bits and pieces," McGonagall said.

"Er – well, he's doing fine," Hermione said uncertainly, suddenly looking very nervous. "He thinks he's got a chance of getting an owl now."

McGonagall nodded. "And Mr. Potter?"

Hermione looked even more nervous than before and began wringing her hands. "Harry's fine," she half-squeaked. "Disappointed that he got away, you know."

McGonagall's lips twitched upward ever so slightly as Hermione avoided specifying whether Black or Pettigrew was guilty.

"And you?"

"I'm just happy that things are all back to normal, Professor," Hermione said.

McGonagall nodded. "You should go on down to breakfast, Miss Granger."

Hermione smiled and got up from her chair. "Have a good summer, Professor!" she called over her shoulder as she left.

Hours later, after all the students had gone, McGonagall went up to Dumbledore's office with a few important documents she'd found while clearing out her desk.

"Ah, Minerva," Dumbledore said as his deputy entered. "I was hoping you'd come by."

Sighing, McGonagall set the papers she'd found aside on one of the bookshelves and sat down. "Has something else happened now?"

"Not yet," Dumbledore said. He plowed on before his deputy had the opportunity to ask what he meant by "yet". "I'm afraid I skipped out on a few of the details when I was speaking with you, Pomona, and Filius the other day."

McGonagall's brow furrowed. "About Black's escape?"

"Yes. I was still trying to work out a few things myself. I'd like to tell you the whole story, if you're willing to listen."

McGonagall's lips thinned as she considered. Half the time Dumbledore told her things, she found that she would prefer not to know. "Why have you suddenly deemed it necessary for me to know the whole story?"

"I believe events will soon transpire that require the whole story be known to more than just myself," Dumbledore said. "And, after all, good strategies are often developed during discussion with another."

McGonagall closed her eyes tightly for a moment, then rather unwillingly said, "Alright, I'm listening."

Dumbledore began the tale, starting with how Sirius discovered Pettigrew when he read the article in _The Prophet_ about the Weasleys winning a drawing that gave them enough money to go visit Bill in Egypt. Scabbers the rat had been sitting on Ron's shoulder, and Sirius had recognized him. Dumbledore then proceeded to explain that Sirius had escaped Azkaban because he, as well as Pettigrew, had become an Animagus in his school days.

McGonagall cut Dumbledore off with a wave of her hand and pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, processing. "Alright, go on."

Dumbledore obliged. He went on to explain how Sirius had gotten inside the castle, how he had gotten the passwords to the common room, and how he finally managed to get his target to come to him. He talked about the Shrieking Shack, how Snape had interrupted, how Pettigrew had been forced to turn back into himself, and how the whole group went back out onto the Hogwarts grounds. He talked about how Lupin had transformed, how the dementors had come, how they had almost kissed Harry, and that they were driven off.

"I could have gone the rest of my life without knowing that, Albus," McGonagall said, shuddering slightly as she thought about how Harry very nearly had his soul sucked out of him.

"I've only told half the story, Minerva," Dumbledore said with an air of mild interest.

"Merlin's beard," McGonagall moaned.

Much to the dismay of McGonagall, Dumbledore then launched into the part of the story where he told Hermione to use her Time-Turner to go back and save Buckbeak and Sirius, and that Harry had driven off at least a hundred dementors by himself.

"_You told Hermione Granger to go against Time-Turning law with the Time-Turner that I_ _spent weeks getting her?_" McGonagall hissed dangerously. It was the only thought she felt able to verbalize.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "If it's of any consolation, it wasn't discovered and Miss Granger and Mr. Potter saved two innocent lives, as well as their own souls, because they went back."

McGonagall seemed to have lost her voice as she moved her mouth but no sound came out. Finally, she stood up and made to leave, still without saying a word, though her hands were in fists and she had a slightly nauseous expression on her face.

"Have a happy summer, Minerva!" Dumbledore called cheerily as his deputy shut his office door.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Oh, Dumbledore. How you amuse me!

Alright, readers (but reviewers are way cooler ;) ), wave good bye to third year!


	55. Goblet of Fire

_**FIFTY FIVE – The Riddle House, The Scar**_

"Dumbledore!" Snape burst into the Headmaster's office quite randomly a couple of weeks into the summer.

"Severus, this is a surprise," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "What – "

Snape peeled back his left sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark on his arm. "Pettigrew found the Dark Lord; I felt the Mark twinge."

Any trace of cheerfulness disappeared from Dumbledore's demeanor. He looked utterly serious and extremely concerned. "Had I not asked you to pay attention, Severus, would you have noticed?"

Snape shook his head. "It was too faint. I doubt anyone else would have sensed it. No one else knows Pettigrew is still alive, they're not looking for any signs."

"What do you think of this, Severus?" Dumbledore asked. "Do you think Voldemort will be able to return?"

Snape's frown became more pronounced when Dumbledore said Voldemort's name. "Yes," he said steadily. "I believe he will find a way."

Dumbledore connected his fingertips and looked thoughtful.

"Dumbledore, something must be done," Snape said rather desperately.

"I am aware, Severus," Dumbledore patiently responded. "Not being able to prove that Pettigrew is still alive complicates things greatly, though. Without him, Fudge will never believe the unlikely story we have to tell him now."

"Bring Potter, Weasley, and Granger back," Snape suggested. "Convince them to take a truth potion. Let Fudge question them."

"Fudge will not believe even then, Severus," Dumbledore said. His eyebrows drew together as he thought. "He does not _want_ to believe that the wrong man was imprisoned for twelve years while the real culprit behind Lily and James's murders was living comfortably as a pet."

"He's a fool!"

"Yes, Severus, he is," Dumbledore sighed. "You cannot deny the story sounds very farfetched, however."

"Still, something must be done," Snape continued to press.

Dumbledore took another silent moment. "Go send word to Filius, Minerva, and Pomona that I would like them to return here as soon as they can."

If Snape had questions, he did not voice them as he swept out of the office.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and thought of what he was about to do. It would mean countless arguments, hundreds of letters, and dozens of meetings, but it had to be done. Alliances needed to be forged. It _had_ to be done.

* * *

><p>McGonagall threw open her office door and looked around with a frown on her face. For once she had been having a "normal" summer. The one time she actually needed to come back to Hogwarts early –<p>

"Minerva!"

McGonagall jumped slightly and wheeled around to face Sprout. "Would you be so kind as to knock next time, Pomona?"

"I thought you would have been back here a week and a half ago," Sprout said, disregarding McGonagall's negativity.

"No," McGonagall said shortly. "I was staying with my niece, Isobel, actually. She's asked me to help her become an Animagus."

"Well that must make Auntie Minerva proud," Sprout said with an annoying smile.

"It does, actually," McGonagall admitted. She sighed heavily. "Depending on what it is Dumbledore's called us in for, I'll have to owl Isobel and tell her I won't be able to come back this summer."

"I went and saw Severus earlier today. He was packing a trunk," Sprout said.

McGonagall groaned. "Malcom went through such trouble to get us all tickets for the Quidditch Cup, and now I'll have to tell him I can't go!"

"What's got you spending so much time with your family all of a sudden?" Sprout asked.

"Isobel asked me to tutor her and things just snowballed from there," McGonagall answered. "I also just have a –" she paused to think of the word she wanted, " – a bad feeling about this year, like I won't be able to go anywhere next summer."

"Haven't started looking into crystal balls, have you?" Sprout inquired with a raised brow.

"Don't be ridiculous," McGonagall snapped, back to her usual self in an instant. "If you're through poking fun at me, we've got a meeting to get to." She waved Sprout out of her office, then closed the door.

"You're very nearly late," Dumbledore said in way of greeting as McGonagall and Sprout entered his office and sat with Flitwick and Snape.

Various smart remarks flitted through McGonagall's head, but she refrained from voicing them. "What's this all about?" she asked instead.

"I spoke to you all at the end of last term about whom Peter Pettigrew might seek out as his new protector," Dumbledore said without any further preamble. "It has happened."

McGonagall felt her stomach drop.

"P-Pettigrew found You-Know-Who?" Flitwick squeaked.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. As his Heads of House reacted, he continued, "I cannot hide that I am very much afraid that Voldemort –" he ignored the frowns and flinches, " – will find a way to return with Pettigrew's help."

"Potter," McGonagall said automatically. "We've got to get Potter somewhere safe where we can keep an eye on him!"

"Minerva – "

"You-Know-Who's going to think that Harry's the only thing standing in his way, Albus! He'll – "

"Rest assured that Harry is perfectly safe with his aunt and uncle," Dumbledore said.

"That does nothing to assure me, Albus," McGonagall said with a slight snort, thinking back to the year previous when Vernon has sworn not to let Harry back in his house.

"I believe Arthur Weasley is attempting to get Mr. Potter a ticket to the World Cup," Dumbledore patiently continued to reason. "He'll be with the Weasleys soon, I'm sure."

McGonagall's fingers began to roll over the arm of her chair. She did not look wholly convinced, but let the matter go for the time being.

"If Voldemort is to return, which I have a most unpleasant feeling he will, – and, unfortunately, such feelings of mine tend to prove themselves correct – we must start preparing for him now," Dumbledore boldly stated.

"How on earth do you suggest going on about that?" Sprout asked. "We can't simply go parading around shouting out what we think. We've no proof! No one will believe us."

"I am not concerned with preventing the inevitable, Pomona," Dumbledore replied. "The rest of the world will come to know that he is returning. I've said we need to _prepare_ for him."

"What's going on inside your head now, Albus?" McGonagall asked skeptically.

"Having a web of friends and allies across the globe will do us no harm," Dumbledore said. "I've begun work on resurrecting the Triwizard Tournament."

There was a collective gasp from three out of the four Heads of House.

"The Tournament was disbanded for a reason, Dumbledore," Snape said tightly, "several of them, actually."

"I'm well aware, Severus," said Dumbledore evenly. "Every possible precaution will be taken to keep participating students as safe as can be during the tasks."

"One in three participants of the Triwizard Tournament died, Dumbledore," McGonagall said through slightly gritted teeth.

"I've examined those statistics, Minerva. Most of the students that had the misfortune of dying in the Tournament were underage. There will be an age restriction strictly enforced this time around. Only those seventeen or older will be able to enter."

Much though she might not like it, students seventeen and older were at perfect liberty to risk their lives as they pleased, and so McGonagall switched her support in favor of Dumbledore and the Triwizard Tournament.

"You're still mad," Sprout said.

"What reason do you plan on handing Fudge?" McGonagall asked, earning an affronted glare from Sprout.

Dumbledore smiled slightly as he recognized he had his deputy on his side once more. "It is a great tragedy of this day and age that young witches and wizards rarely travel abroad to see the practices of other cultures of our kind. The Triwizard Tournament offers the perfect opportunity for students to expand their practical knowledge beyond things taught at Hogwarts."

"Fudge will be further convinced if you mention that the Tournament is also an excellent opportunity to show 'his' school's skills and talents," Flitwick added wisely.

"Thank you, Filius," Dumbledore said happily.

"What do you need us to do to start preparing?" McGonagall asked.

"I need you to pack," Dumbledore answered. At the prompting of confused looks, he continued, "I believe Igor Karkaroff and Olympe Maxime ought to be informed of our plans, don't you?"

"You're sending us off to Beauxbatons and Durmstrang?" McGonagall asked dully.

"That ought to be the job of the Department of International Magical Cooperation," Snape said, looking much darker than he had before Dumbledore had suggested traveling.

"The Department of International Magical Cooperation will assist more proactively once the World Cup is through.

"Pomona, Filius, Madame Maxime expects you at Beauxbatons in three days," Dumbledore said, walking around his desk to hand Flitwick and Sprout each a letter embossed with elegant blue writing on their fronts. "A formal invitation," he explained.

McGonagall's eyebrows drew together as Dumbledore held out letters to her and Snape with crude red writing. "Durmstrang," she said lowly. She knew her temperament was far better suited for Durmstang than Flitwick's or Sprout's, but that did not make her any happier about going. "When?"

"Four days," Dumbledore answered. "I suggest leaving tomorrow morning if you wish to be on time."

McGonagall glanced sideways at Snape. He looked even unhappier about being sent to Durmstrang than she felt. With a deep sigh, she stood up. "Then we ought to begin packing." She left the office without another word.

Snape stayed rooted in his chair as Sprout, then Flitwick left. He waited a few moments after the door closed before speaking. "What do you want me to do with Karkaroff?" he asked.

"What do you know of his loyalties?" Dumbledore asked, leaning against his desk.

"They lie with himself," Snape said.

"And if Voldemort were to return to power?"

"Karkaroff will do what he believes to be in his best interest. By no means will he be reliable."

"And what of you, Severus?"

Snape's eyes became as dark as could be. "Are you asking where _my _loyalties lie?" he hissed.

"Yes," Dumbledore said simply.

Snape gave a sneer with anger burning in his eyes. "I have made it clear to whom I am loyal, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore nodded. "Then what will become of you when Voldemort does return, Severus?"

"If I am to live, I will have to convince him of my loyalty or never step foot outside Hogwarts," Snape said matter-of-factly.

"The former, I think," said Dumbledore. "Do not let Karkaroff know Voldemort is rising again. We must wait to see when he notices."

"And when the Mark finally burns?"

"I would recommend beginning to brush up on your Occlumency, Severus. I will ask you to serve us in the way that only you can be trusted to," Dumbledore said slightly ominously as he avoided directly mentioning the harsh lifestyle that awaited the Potions Master.

Snape paled slightly, then finally rose from his seat. "Have you ever realized that you ask too much of people, Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "It is something I feel the need to do far too often."

Snape swept out of the office without another word.

* * *

><p>The following morning, Snape heaved his and McGonagall's trunks into a thestral-drawn carriage while McGonagall had a few last words with Hagrid.<p>

"Is there anything we'll have to do for the thestrals, Hagrid?" McGonagall asked.

"Nah," said Hagrid. "They'll find their own food. Jus' make sure they've got somewhere ter stay overnigh'. Not used to the cold they got up at Durmstrang, I reckon."

McGonagall's lips thinned slightly at the mention of the cold. She was not at all thrilled about having to wear gloves and her thickest cloak in August.

"Minerva," Snape called form the carriage.

McGonagall sighed and looked around at the pleasant grounds of Hogwarts before heading over to the carriage.

"See yeh in a few days!" Hagrid said all too cheerily as he closed the door after Snape and McGonagall both climbed in.

"You've got the letter Dumbledore wanted us to bring?" Snape asked as the carriage took flight.

"Yes," McGonagall said shortly as she looked out the window. "I still say we should have just Apparated the whole way there."

"Durmstrang's out of range, Minerva," Snape drawled.

"I'm not stupid, Severus," McGonagall bit back. "I know Durmstrang's out of range; it's out of everyone's range! We could have Apparated from place to place within range until we got there instead of taking thestrals, though."

"Appearing at Durmstrang's gates would not impress Karkaroff," Snape said. "He'll be happier if he can see us coming from a distance."

"Karkaroff needs to loosen up a bit," McGonagall said as she pulled out a book.

"Karkaroff will also be more willing to do as we suggest if we _keep ourselves in check_. He's not a fan of shrews."

"Are you insinuating that I'm a shrew?" McGonagall asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," Snape answered bluntly.

"Charming," McGonagall huffed and pulled her book up in front of her face resolutely to avoid looking at Snape.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

And so begins 4th year. Well, sort of... technically school hasn't started yet, so one could argue that it's not REALLY 4th year yet... ... ...

Reviews are preeeeeetttttyy.


	56. Chapter 56

_**FIFTY SIX – The Riddle House, The Scar**_

"Frilly sort of place, isn't it?" Flitwick asked, looking down at Beauxbatons as the Hogwarts carriage descended slowly.

Sprout looked out the window. The golden roof of the school reflected the sunlight while the grey-blue walls gave a welcoming impression. Beauxbatons had quite extensive grounds; the whole school was three floors and spread across what seemed like dozens of acres of land. "How on earth do the students get to classes on time?" she asked.

The carriage landed. Flitwick made to open the door, but it did so on what seemed to be its own accord. The Charms and Herbology professors looked across at each other with raised brows.

"_Monsieur! Madame!_" said an excited, accented voice. "Welcome to Beauxbatons! Madame Maxime eez expecting you in ze Dining Chamber. Dinner 'as been prepared for you. Come, come!"

Sprout and Flitwick stepped out of the carriage to see a man in his mid-twenties beckoning to them. As the professors followed their guide, Sprout began to regret not bringing lighter robes. Beauxbatons had a much warmer and more humid climate than Hogwarts.

"Professors!" Madame Maxime greeted pleasantly enough as her guests from Hogwarts entered her Dining Chamber. "Eet eez vairy good to meet wiz you. Please, sit!"

Sprout sat across Madame Maxime while Flitwick conjured several pillows which he threw on top of his chair before sitting so he could eat properly. He was kind enough to make the pillows powder blue so they matched the rest of the room's décor.

"'Ow are things at 'Ogwarts?" Maxime asked as golden trays laden with food levitated onto the table.

Sprout and Flitwick exchanged a quick look in which, somehow, Flitwick was silently delegated the politician and speaker.

"We can't complain," he said. "You never have the same thing twice at Hogwarts. Each year's always interesting."

"Ah, but of course," Maxime sighed dramatically. "Eet eez quite ze same at Beauxbatons. Tell me," she said, suddenly sounding much more interested in the conversation, "what became of zat Sirius Black?"

"He – er – got away," Flitwick said rather uneasily, shifting slightly on top of his pillows.

"Bah!" Madame Maxime said with a wave of her abnormally large hand. "Zat always seems to be ze case, doesn't eet? I'm sure you will catch 'im soon."

"Whenever Dumbledore wills it," Sprout mumbled as she pushed around a particularly unappetizing looking food item with her fork.

"What was zat, Professor Sprout?" Maxime asked politely.

"I was just commenting on how delightful this looked," Sprout somehow managed to say enthusiastically. She proceeded to shove a forkful of what she had been pushing around into her mouth and immediately regretted it. She only barely managed to keep from spitting it back out onto her plate. Across her, Flitwick tried not to smirk.

"Ah, yes, we 'ave most excellent cooks 'ere at Beauxbatons," Madame Maxime said proudly.

Sprout disagreed whole heartedly, but refrained from making anymore smart comments. The rest of the meal passed with pointless small talk and only once the plates, goblets, and cutlery had melted into the table did Madame Maxime begin business.

"You must tell me what Professor Dumbly-dorr has sent you 'ere for," she said, leaning forward slightly to listen intently.

"He's sent a letter along with us," Flitwick said and delved into his pocket. He pulled out an envelope with Dumbledore's thin, slanted writing on it in purple.

Madame Maxime took the letter, opened it, and began reading while Flitwick and Sprout watched her reaction apprehensively.

"Zis must be a joke," Maxime said after reaching the bottom of the letter.

"There's no joke, Madame," Flitwick said politely.

Thinking quickly, Sprout appealed to Maxime's very evident pride in her school. "The Triwizard Tournament is an excellent chance to showcase our students, Madame, as well as encourage them to work harder in class. Everyone puts in more effort when they're in competition."

"But zis tournament eez vairy dangerous," Maxime objected. "Eez Dumbly-dorr een 'is right mind?"

Anger flared up in Sprout at Maxime's suggestion. "Dumbledore's mind is just as clear and coherent as the next person's, Madame. You've read his letter. He's told you everything he has to say. Will you or will you not bring your students to Hogwarts to compete?"

"I will 'ave to consult my staff," Maxime said, turning her nose up slightly at Sprout, evidently displeased with her.

Also appealing to Maxime's pride, Flitwick spoke up. "We don't want to pressure you, Madame! We can simply ask another school – "

"I 'ave not given you my final word yet, Professor Flitwick," Maxime said, suddenly rather harsh sounding.

"Of course," Flitwick said with a slight bow, refraining from smiling with great difficulty. While Maxime had not given her official answer, he was now quite certain of what it would be.

"Jacques will show you to your rooms," Maxime announced, making it quite clear she had had enough of her company.

Then enthusiastic young man that had led Flitwick and Sprout to the Dining Chamber appeared once more.

"I think that went rather well," Flitwick said lowly as he and Sprout followed behind Jacques.

"Asking if Dumbledore's in his right mind – pah!" Sprout huffed as though the thought had been on her mind for a while. "What a ridiculous question! Of course he is! His mind's just different, is all."

"Weren't you the one that asked him if he was mad when he first suggested the idea to us?" Flitwick asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yes, well," Sprout blustered. "That's different."

"Entirely," Flitwick said with a roll of his eyes.

"It is!" Sprout objected. "You all knew I wasn't serious."

"Are you writing to Dumbledore tonight or shall I?" Flitwick asked, very purposely changing the direction of the conversation.

"I think you'd better," Sprout said.

"Very well," Flitwick agreed. "Jacques, good fellow! Where might I find an owl?"

"I will send one up to your room, Monsieur," Jacques offered. He flung open a door with finesse. "Madame," he said politely, indicating Sprout to enter.

After being shown to his own room, Flitwick sat down to write to Dumbledore to give him an update and vaguely began to wonder if McGonagall and Snape had killed each other yet.

* * *

><p>The Transfiguration Mistress and Potions Master stood outside their carriage, cold wind whipping across their faces. No other human beings were in sight and their destination lay behind a rather intimidating and unwelcoming gate.<p>

McGonagall checked her pocket watch and frowned. They were half an hour late. "This is your fault," she told Snape.

"Is it?" Snape asked scathingly.

"Who was it that failed to wake up on time this morning?" McGonagall asked. "Now they've probably gone back inside and who knows if they can see us from so far away?" She looked across the vast grounds of Durmstrang to the castle so far away it looked as though it were only the size of an average house

"Who was it that failed to notice I hadn't gotten up?" Snape asked.

"Do I look like your mother, Severus? You should be able to get yourself up by now, I think!"

"Karkaroff knows we're here," Snape drawled.

"Is that why we're standing outside in this wind?" McGonagall snapped.

"Payback," Snape explained. "We were not punctual and so Karkaroff sees no reason to hurry to get us inside."

McGonagall's eyebrows furrowed. "Exactly _how _much time did you spend with Karkaroff back in the day, Severus?"

"Enough," Snape said simply.

McGonagall sighed and looked back at the Durmstrang castle. It was a strangely off putting sight. It was smaller than Hogwarts, but that was not at all what made McGonagall uneasy. The fact that everything – the towers, the doors, the windows – was angular and regimented did, and she could see no sign of a warming fire burning inside.

Karkaroff suddenly appeared out of the ground a mere twenty feet behind the gates into the school.

"Professor McGonagall," he said with a bit of a bow, still behind his gate. "Professor Snape. You are later than I expected."

"_Someone_ had a bit of trouble getting up this morning," McGonagall explained.

While Karkaroff took out his wand and opened the gate, Snape shot a glare at his colleague, who seemed not to care at all.

Karkaroff lead his guests across the lawn. He did not take them into the underground passage, safe from the harsh wind, that he had taken down to the gate. This and the fact that there was no warm fire despite the grate in the entrance hall to the castle put McGonagall in even more of a foul mood than she had been upon arriving to Durmstrang.

The interior of the castle was, much like the outside, very regimented, unwelcoming, and devoid of individuality. Pictures were few and far between and all the faces were harsh and judgmental, making anyone walking through the halls feel as though they were being very closely watched.

Unaware of the discomfort and unease of at least one of his guests, Karkaroff shrugged off his cloak and hung it on a stand that had risen out of the floor. Snape followed suite and McGonagall, figuring Snape knew Karkaroff's disposition well enough, followed his example and allowed him to take lead and begin conversation with the head of Durmstrang.

"So Dumbledore has sent you to Durmstrang," Karkaroff said as he began down a spiral staircase, giving no indication of his destination, nor any specific invitation to be followed. "Why?"

"The letter," Snape said quietly to McGonagall, holding out his hand as he began to follow Karkaroff. In a voice of normal volume, he answered, "He wishes to invite you and Madame Maxime to Hogwarts this year."

McGonagall pulled out the letter of explanation with Dumbledore's purple writing and put it into Snape's waiting hand.

"Why would Maxime or I go to Hogwarts?" Karkaroff asked in a tone that suggested the idea was laughable.

"He's written you a letter to explain," Snape said.

"Has he?" Karkaroff asked. "I've received no letter from Dumbledore since he asked to send you here."

"It would have been unwise for him to send this letter by owl," Snape said.

Karkaroff's interest became engaged enough that he stopped and turned to actually look at Snape and McGonagall. "Then you must have it."

Snape held up the letter. As Karkaroff made to snatch it, he pulled it back. "Perhaps you'd like to be sat and comfortable when you read it, Karkaroff."

Karkaroff attempted a smile that did not meet his eyes. "Perhaps so, Severus." He turned back forward and marched on.

McGonagall looked over at Snape, but he kept his head turned resolutely forward.

"Tell me," Karkaroff said as he opened the door to another cold and dark corridor, "how is Hogwarts?"

Snape spared McGonagall a quick glance.

"Hogwarts is just fine," McGonagall said, taking her hint. "Staff and students are all well."

"Did you ever find Black?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, he got away again before he could properly be brought to justice," McGonagall half-lied.

"What is justice?" Karkaroff asked scathingly.

"Where are we going, Igor?" McGonagall asked to redirect conversation.

As an answer, Karkaroff opened a door that led into a large room filled with many rectangular tables, each with only seven wooden, unpadded chairs, one at the head and three on either side.

"We try to have a staff member at the head of every table," Karkaroff explained as he sat down heavily at the most highly polished table. "It's a good way to build camaraderie between staff and students."

McGonagall thought it was more of a way of the staff asserting their power and constantly monitoring their students than to build relationships. In fact, she was sure it was, but knew it would do far more harm than good to voice her thoughts. "You can't possibly have _that_ many staff members," she said instead, looking at the numerous tables around her. Hogwarts was the largest school in their world, and it had fewer than thirty teachers!

Karkaroff showed his yellow teeth once more. "Student leaders are allowed the other open seats."

McGonagall could think of no intelligent reply that was not sarcastic, so she merely nodded.

"Sit," Karkaroff invited, gesturing to the chairs on his left and right. Snape took the seat to Karkaroff's right, McGonagall, the one on his left. "I am seated and comfortable," he announced. "The letter, Severus?" he asked, holding out his hand.

Snape produced the letter from his sleeve and handed it over to Karkaroff, who opened it with a strange flick of his wrist. While the head of Durmstrang read, Snape and McGonagall had a strange sort of nonverbal conversation in which neither of them even moved much, but managed to establish their roles in the coming conversation.

"Bah!" Karkaroff exclaimed, finishing the letter and throwing it down on the table. "This is madness."

"Madness?" McGonagall queried as politely as she could manage.

"The Triwizard Tournament was disbanded; that was decided upon by an international convention. What makes Dumbledore think he can raise it up again?"

"Why he thinks he can isn't why we've come, Karkaroff," Snape said.

"Are you willing to compete?" McGonagall asked.

Karkaroff leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtful, weighing his options. "I am willing," he said finally. As McGonagall gave an inward sigh of relief, he continued, "I will bring my students to Hogwarts, but I insist a say in the tasks and organization of the Tournament."

"Of course," Snape said before McGonagall was able to reply. "We'll send word of your reply to Dumbledore and he will arrange a Floo meeting with you and Madame Maxime."

"Wonderful," Karkaroff said with another unnerving smile. He slammed his hand down on the table twice and food began to shoot up out of it. "I must inform my staff of this development." He rose and left without any further instruction or invitation.

"That was hardly worth a trip up here," McGonagall snapped, her diplomatic aura breaking.

"Is Dumbledore sending Fawkes?" Snape asked as he helped himself to the food before him.

"Yes," McGonagall said. She looked at her pocket watch. "About three hours."

"Be sure to mention how easy it was to convince Karkaroff."

"Just imagine," McGonagall said dully, "he'll be at Hogwarts all year." The realization caused her to lose her appetite. She pushed her plate aside to rest her forehead on her hand.

"Do you know if Pomona is going to send you anything from Beauxbatons?" Snape asked.

"If she does, it had better be good news."

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p>Minerva!<p>

_You went through my trunk!_

Did I?

_Yes, you did! I didn't pack my Notebook!_

How odd it managed to slip into your things, then, and how marvelously convenient.

_How odd indeed._

What's Karkaroff said?

_Durmstrang's coming. Maxime?_

It took a bit of – er – convincing, but Beauxbatons will be participating.

_Convincing here meaning manipulating?_

Manipulating is a nasty word, and don't act as if you didn't!

_I didn't. Karkaroff readily agreed._

Eager to show his non-Muggle born school is the best, no doubt. How's Severus?

_More surly than usual. Hopefully we'll get to leave soon._

Dumbledore's asked you to stay for some of the negotiations as well?

_Well he hasn't said when he wants us back._

Hopefully we'll be back home in time for the World Cup!

_Much as I'd like to say differently, I doubt it._

Well Filius and I were sent the contract from the Ministry to have Maxime sign. You'll probably get one for Karkaroff tomorrow or the day after.

_I'm surprised the Ministry has managed to do anything not involving the Cup. They really got the contract out?_

You know Barty Crouch. As soon as Dumbledore told him about the Tournament he got someone right on those contracts.

_Oh, good Lord… Barty and Ludo are going to be at Hogwarts, too! _

I like Ludo.

_Of course YOU do. HOW he got to be head of a department…_

He's a smart boy!

_That's just the problem. He's a boy – he never grew up!_

Well we can't all be rigorous rule-followers, now can we?

_Fawkes just came. I'll see you back at Hogwarts, Pomona._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Your author had a craptastic day and cannot come up with a snarky note. Apologies.

I'm just dying to know what you think of fourth year so far... review. Click the button.


	57. Chapter 57

_**FIFTY SEVEN – The Dark Mark, Mayhem at the Ministry**_

"Severus!"

Snape automatically threw his arm over to where he had set his wand before he'd fallen asleep as he opened his eyes, but his hand did not fall upon the familiar feel of his wand and he shot up in his bed.

"Minerva!" he snapped, looking at his colleague before him, still in her tartan nightgown, holding his wand out to him. "What?" he asked moodily, snatching his wand.

"I had to take it before I woke you," McGonagall said testily. "Now's not the greatest time for you to curse me, even if it would be on accident!"

"_What do you want?_" Snape insisted.

"Dumbledore wants us to head back _now_," McGonagall explained.

"We're scheduled to head back in two days. Did he say why now?"

McGonagall held a piece of parchment out to Snape, who grabbed it and read it quickly: Leave as soon as you can manage; I'll send explanation once you're underway.

Snape waved his wand and his possessions organized themselves neatly into his trunk. "Are you telling Karkaroff or shall I?"

McGonagall sighed. "I think I'd better. He'll have to be on good terms with _someone_ while he's at Hogwarts. If you tell him we're leaving you'll lose all favor with him. I'll pack quickly and leave my trunk outside my room."

Snape nodded as he began putting his shoes on and his colleague left quietly. It vaguely registered in his half-asleep mind that the Quidditch World Cup had taken place the day previously, and he wondered if it had anything to do with being called back so suddenly.

While Snape mused on, McGonagall hurried back to her room, changed quickly, then packed with the wave of her wand and set her trunk outside in the corridor. She began twisting her hair into its customary bun as she strode through the unfamiliar and unwelcoming hallways of Durmstrang. It wasn't until she put in the final pins into her hair that she realized she had absolutely no idea where Karkaroff's quarters were. Frustrated, she paused in front of a painting.

"Could you direct me toward Professor Karkaroff's room?" she asked the stern face before her.

The portrait looked down at McGonagall scathingly and made no reply.

"Fine," McGonagall huffed. "Be an unhelpful, poorly done painting!"

"The fourth floor, facing the gates," the portrait said rather unwillingly with his nose upturned.

"Thank you," McGonagall said in a decidedly ungrateful tone and rushed off. She finally made her way up to the fourth floor and began examining doors, trying to figure out which one Karkaroff might be behind, though her extra effort was hardly needed. Karkaroff's door had ornate carvings on it that made it difficult to find a place to knock without risk of cracking one's knuckles open, but McGonagall managed.

Karkaroff certainly took his time getting to his door. By the time it swung open McGonagall had been prepared to simply leave without informing the headmaster, regardless of the consequences.

"Minerva," Karkaroff said stiffly, an expensive and thick night robe wrapped around his thin body. "It's – "

"Four in the morning," McGonagall bit out. She was in no mood to waste her energy on formalities, especially with someone so rudely informal as Karkaroff. "Dumbledore has sent for me and Severus. We must leave immediately."

"Two weeks of staying at Durmstrang to assist in negotiations and pulled away with ten minutes' notice," Karkaroff said disapprovingly. "How well Dumbledore has you trained."

Fury seared through McGonagall and she felt her temper rise almost to its breaking point. "Severus and I will see ourselves out," she said through tight lips, then turned on her heel and stomped away without giving Karkaroff a chance to react.

"Insufferable man!" the transfiguration mistress burst as she strode out onto the grounds to meet the potions master.

"What's he done now?" Snape asked as though extraordinarily bored.

"Lowered us to the level of dogs," McGonagall snapped, being shorter with Snape than she meant to be. "Let's go."

Almost as soon as the thestrals took to the sky, Fawkes appeared with a burst of flame, dropped an envelope, and disappeared in the same manner as he had come. If McGonagall had not known better, she would have suspected Dumbledore of watching her and Snape as they left.

Snape snatched the envelope quickly, before McGonagall had the chance, and tore it open. He pulled out a clipping from _The Prophet _and blood drained out of his face almost immediately.

"What's happened?" McGonagall asked uneasily.

Fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white, Snape lowered the paper and looked across at McGonagall. "Death Eaters," he said, "at the World Cup."

"No," McGonagall heard herself say faintly. Powered by a sudden wave of inexplicable fury, the transfiguration mistress reached out and ripped the article from Snape's clutches. Her eyes flew down the paper several times and by the time she finally set it down, her hands shook slightly. "They can't have been on his orders," she reasoned aloud. "No one's dead, and he can't be strong enough yet… Can he?"

"He's not," Snape said, unconsciously rubbing his left forearm. "Drunken foolishness, most likely."

"I don't think it'd be _quite_ that simple," McGonagall said. "If they had been drunk, the Ministry probably would have rounded them up and Albus wouldn't have called us back. You know _The Prophet _didn't print over half of the story."

Snape chose looking out the window over making a reply.

"How long do you think we have, Severus?" McGonagall asked tentatively after several minutes of heavy silence. "How long until he comes back?"

"I think you'd be a fool to bet on more than a year," Snape said rather blandly.

McGonagall nodded, sighed, and turned her eyes toward her own window while thoughts pinged around her head so quickly she could hardly make sense of them.

Hours passed of complete silence, each of the two professors mulling over their own thoughts.

"We're headed too far south," McGonagall said confusedly, observing the landscape below.

"Perhaps Hagrid gave us senile thestrals," Snape responded, thoroughly unconcerned.

"If we keep the way we're going, we'll go straight through Ukraine!"

Snape remained unmoved and McGonagall gave up on discussion.

When it came time to stop for the night, the two professors agreed it was better they traveled on. Time was of the essence, and they had to get back to Hogwarts as quickly as possible.

* * *

><p>Sprout and Flitwick were sat in the Dining Chamber of Beauxbatons with Madame Maxime eating food they had trained their taste buds not to register and speaking of things that hardly mattered when Jacques burst in, babbling away in French with a very harried expression. As Maxime attempted to calm the poor man, Flitwick noticed something in Jacque's hand.<p>

"Jacques, dear fellow, where did you get that letter?"

"Monsieur?" Jacques asked.

"The letter in your hand – It's from Professor Dumbledore, is it not?"

"I do not know, Monsieur! I found eet outside on ze grounds," Jacques said nervously.

"Well give it here, good sir! It must be meant for Professor Sprout and myself."

"Er, Monsieur, Madame, zere 'as been an acceedent," Jacques said, seeming not to have registered Flitwick's request. As his nerves began to itch once more, he unconsciously crumpled the letter in his hand. "Your 'orses – zey 'ave disappeared!"

"Are you sure?" Sprout asked kindly. She had quite taken a liking to Jacques since arriving at Beauxbatons. He was much friendlier than anyone else she and Flitwick had come across. "Thestrals are tricky things. I'm sure they're around somewhere."

"No, Madame!" Jacques cried, tears welling in his eyes. "I 'ave been looking everywhere! Zey are not 'ere!"

Madame Maxime began speaking French to her employee with a very unpleasant look on her face, but Flitwick intervened.

"If I may, Jacques, the letter, please!" the tiny professor asked urgently.

"_D__ésolé, __Monsieur,"_ Jacques said, unclenching his hand with effort. He smoothed the paper out as best as he could before placing it gingerly in front of Flitwick and then turned to stand in front of Maxime, head hung as he prepared himself for a lecture.

Flitwick opened the letter and pulled out three pieces of paper. He set the one addressed to Madame Maxime aside for the time being and next looked at a clipping from _The Daily Prophet_. "Pomona," he said in a hoarse whisper a moment later and held the article out to her.

Sprout took the article, then choked on the crescent she had been chewing. Maxime and Jacques were too involved in their conversation to notice, and Flitwick was absorbed in the letter from Dumbledore, so Sprout quickly drained her glass of water to set herself straight. "What's his note say?" she asked urgently, coughing a few more times into her napkin.

"Minerva and Severus are on their way here," Flitwick said as his eyes flew down the note from Dumbledore for the third time. "They'll spend the night and then we'll all head back in their carriage; he's called ours back."

"This article's from two days ago!" Sprout snapped. "Why are we just finding out now?"

"Albus didn't want us to worry longer than necessary," Flitwick said. He turned his attention to his host. "Madame Maxime," he politely interrupted, earning an unwarranted glare. "There has been a misunderstanding. Professor Dumbledore has called our carriage back. I do apologize for the confusion. We weren't aware ourselves until just now."

Jacques exhaled and his knees went wobbly with relief. Madame Maxime excused him and he hurried off.

"What eez going on?" Maxime demanded of Sprout and Fltiwick.

"Dumbledore's written you a letter of explanation," Sprout said. "Here." And she offered the paper to Maxime.

Maxime threw down the letter when she was finished. "So two more are coming to my palace tonight?" she asked.

"Apparently so, Madame," Flitwick said. "Please, you need not go out of your way to make extra preparations for them. They'll only be staying the night."

"Professor Dumbly-dorr takes too much for granted," Maxime said, annoyance clear.

Sprout had gained immense control of her temper during her two week stay at Beauxbatons, and so she managed to reply in a civil manner, "I'm sure Dumbledore does not mean to inconvenience you, Madame Maxime. He'll owe you a great favor if you allow Professors McGonagall and Snape in for the night."

"A great favor indeed!" Maxime said, then rose and left the chamber.

"_Death Eaters!_" Sprout burst almost as soon as the door had closed behind Maxime. "Death Eaters at the World Cup!"

"Things are escalating, certainly," Flitwick said, reading over the article thoroughly. "Merlin's beard! Who on earth wrote such a slanderous – Ah. Rita Skeeter, of course."

"What does it matter who wrote the article? The fact is that it happened!"

"There is a large portion of this story we are missing, Pomona," Flitwick said. "The fact that no one is dead – "

"Haven't you read that whole thing? **'**_**Rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods**_– "

"I wouldn't take anything Miss Skeeter writes seriously. She's simply trying to get a reaction. Had there been any bodies, Albus certainly would have written it in his letter."

"Well aren't you just the image of calmness?" Sprout asked dully.

"Would you prefer I go into hysterics, Pomona?"

"Yes!"

"When there is truly cause for concern – "

"You're saying this isn't?"

"I'm saying that we don't know all the details. I'll admit this is upsetting, but they can't have been acting on _his_ orders. He'd be a fool to strike so soon, as we know that he's no fool," Flitwick reasoned.

"I wish he were," Sprout pouted. "Then we'd have him already."

* * *

><p>After hours of waiting in the courtyard in anticipation of her colleagues, Sprout finally gasped and pointed to a speck in the sky. "Here they come! Oh, Merlin, will I be happy for some good company!"<p>

"I sincerely doubt Minerva and Severus will be good company after they've been in the same carriage together for multiple days," Flitwick commented.

"Minerva! Severus!" Sprout greeted enthusiastically as her colleagues stepped out of the carriage. "You've heard about the Cup?"

"That and more," McGonagall said, pulling off her travelling cloak while Snape spelled the luggage out of the carriage. "We stopped over in – "

"I think we best hold on to our stories for later," Flitwick said. "Madame Maxime – "

"Will certainly not want to feel ignored," McGonagall sighed. "Where is she?"

"The better question to ask is, where is Jacques?" Sprout asked, looking around the courtyard.

"Jacques?" Snape asked, disdain at the name evident in his voice.

"A sort of grounds keeper here. He'll know where Maxime's gone off to."

"_Ah! Plus de clients!"_ said an excited voice.

"Speak of the devil and he shall come," Flitwick said.

"_Madame! Monsieur!"_ Jacques greeted enthusiastically, smiling at McGonagall and Snape.

"Jacques, we'd very much like to introduce our colleagues to Madame Maxime," Flitwick said. "Where might we find her?"

"Ze Madame eez in 'er office, Monsieur," Jacques readily answered. "'Owever, dinner eez to be served soon. Per'aps eet would be best to wait for Madame Maxime in ze dining chamber."

"Then wait we will," Flitwick said.

McGonagall and Snape made to grab their bags, but Jacques stopped them with an exclamation.

"Ah! No! Madame, Monsieur, please! I will bring ze luggage to your rooms."

"Thank you," McGonagall said as kindly as she could manage.

"Dining chamber's this way," Sprout said, beginning to walk off.

Behind the closed doors of the dining chamber, discussion burst up from the four heads of House.

"You said you heard more about the Cup," Sprout demanded of McGonagall.

"We had a stopover in Romania and some of Charlie Weasley's friends filled us in," McGonagall answered. "Dumbledore had a letter waiting for us there. He wanted to make sure untrustworthy eyes wouldn't see it."

"Well out with it! What's he said?"

"The Dark Mark was not conjured by one of those terrorizing the camp site," Snape said.

"Then _who_?" Sprout asked urgently.

"Well the theory going around now is that it was Barty Crouch's house-elf!" McGonagall said with a scoff.

"Ridiculous!" Flitwick declared. "_Barty Crouch's_ house-elf? It'd have to have a wand, to start off with!"

"The poor thing had Harry Potter's," McGonagall said flatly.

"He's not getting into trouble already?" Sprout asked.

Snape opened his mouth, but shut it before making a sound as McGonagall glared sharply at him.

"We don't have a clue who did it. All we know is that they did it with Potter's wand and tried to frame the house-elf for it," McGonagall said. "No one's dead, no one's seriously injured."

"What about those poor Muggles the Death Eaters had?" Flitwick asked.

"Unharmed," McGonagall answered. "Memories modified."

"What do you make of all this, Severus?" Flitwick asked unabashedly.

Snape's left hand twitched. "There is no good to come of it," he answered. "Whose orders they were working on, if anyone's, does not matter. The fact that they still have the will and the desire -"

"Ah, ze rest of ze 'Ogwarts professors 'ave arrived," Madame Maxime said, sweeping into the dining chamber.

"Just a few minutes ago, Madame," Flitwick said. "We figured you wouldn't want to be disturbed in your office, so we brought them here to wait. Madame, Professors Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape."

Madame Maxime and McGonagall greeted each other politely, and Snape managed to be civil enough not to warrant a scoff before the five instructors sat down to eat.

"So tell me," Maxime began, causing Sprout and McGonagall to exchange a quick glance across the table, "what 'as 'appened that you are summoned back on such short noteece?"

Sprout looked at Flitwick, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod.

"There's been a disturbance back home. Professor Dumbledore wants us back as a precaution. We must also start preparing for your and Karkaroff's students to join us. Housing so many extra will be no small task," Flitwick explained. "But the more the merrier!"

McGonagall most heartily disagreed, but refrained from voicing her opinion.

"You do intend on staying for breakfast tomorrow, yes?" Maxime asked.

"Certainly," Flitwick replied immediately, earning displeased looks from both McGonagall and Snape. "We wouldn't want to upset you, Madame," he said significantly. It did nothing to soothe his colleagues.

"Would it be too much to ask for an early breakfast, Olympe?" McGonagall dared to ask, thinking quickly. "We very much appreciate your hospitality, but we can't afford to be away from Hogwarts any longer than necessary."

Maxime looked down at McGonagall with an arched eyebrow. "Surely you can afford a few more 'ours?"

"If it weren't for the fact that Severus and I have been traveling the past three days nonstop, we'd be leaving now," McGonagall said.

"Zis must be a matter of great eemportance to pull you away so suddenly," Maxime said suspiciously.

"I'm sure you'll find out what it is soon enough, but we can't discuss it at the moment," McGonagall said. "We don't know enough."

"You know enough to geeve me a general picture!"

McGonagall suddenly had to fight back quite the smirk as she hatched a brilliant plan to leave Beauxbatons early, and one look at Snape told her he thought along the same lines as herself. If they could manage to upset Maxime enough, she would send them off as early as possible the following morning.

"We're no fantastic artists, Olympe," McGonagall said smartly. "I don't think you want us painting a picture for you."

"A badly done painting eez – "

"Hardly worth looking at," Snape dully interrupted. "You will find out what has transpired from far better storytellers than ourselves within a few days, I assure you."

Sprout and Flitwick both looked horrified as Maxime puffed up with anger, believing their two weeks of hard work were quickly being unraveled.

Maxime looked pointedly at McGonagall with unpleasantly cold eyes, very obviously offended. "An early breakfast, then," she said in uncharacteristically harsh tones, then rose and left.

"What have you done?" Sprout hissed at McGonagall seconds after the door shut behind Maxime.

"I've just gotten us back home a few hours earlier," McGonagall said, thoroughly unconcerned. "Marvelous job, Severus."

Snape raised his glass in McGonagall's direction before drinking from it.

"Just for that, I'm now determined to make things more difficult between you and Karkaroff!" Sprout huffed.

"I'm sure your help in raising the tension between Karkaroff and Minerva won't be necessary, Pomona," Snape said. "She's proved herself quite capable of upsetting him over the past two weeks."

"You're just making friends all over the place, aren't you, Minerva?" Flitwick asked.

"We're bound for a few sleepless nights when we get back to Hogwarts," McGonagall said, ignoring Flitwick. "I think it'd be a good idea to get some rest now, don't you?"

"If we have to start all over with Madame Maxime, I'm setting the Weasley twins on you, Minerva!" Sprout threatened.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Oh, huzzah! Back to Hogwarts. -breaks out into musical number- Back to spells and enchantments, potions, and friends! To Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, SLYTHERIN! Back to the place where our story begins at Hogwarts! Hogwarts!

...if you don't get that reference, I feel sorry for you. :'(

Review!


	58. Chapter 58

_**FIFTY-EIGHT - The Dark Mark, Mayhem at the Ministry**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p><em>Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!<em>

Full name already? I haven't even welcomed you back yet. What could I have possibly done wrong?

_That's precisely the problem. You're not here._

Well you've arrived far sooner than I expected. 

_Where are you?_

In Ludo Bagman's office, waiting for him to return with Cornelius.

_Well you've got four very anxious and worn out staff members in your office back at Hogwarts!_

I'll return as soon as I can, rest assured.

_Ha! Rest! Can't Fudge wait? Come and tell us what's happened!_

Hagrid's floating around somewhere. He can keep you occupied until my return.

_You infuriating old man! Come back this instant!_

Ah, here comes Cornelius! Farewell for another hour or two, Minerva!

_Oh… just you wait, Albus._

You're actually the one waiting, Minerva.

_Get back here!_

* * *

><p>Hours after Dumbledore had given the full story of the Quidditch Cup incident and sent Flitwick and Sprout away, he sat in his office with McGonagall and Snape.<p>

"I'm telling you now that those are the people we have to get, and quickly!" Snape said vehemently. "They'll be the first to fly back to the Dark Lord when he returns!"

"Then it is imperative that we do _not_ stop those people now, Severus," Dumbledore argued. "We must watch them, yes, but what good will they do us in Azkaban?"

"A lot more good then they'll do us helping You-Know-Who return!" McGonagall said. "We have to stop things now, before they go further!"

"It won't matter if we round up all the Death Eaters still roaming free now," Dumbledore said. "Voldemort's return is unavoidable, and one way or another, he will find support. We will be doing more harm than good if we let him start completely anew, for then we will not know where to begin searching him out."

McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose. "If _only_ Pettigrew hadn't gotten away!"

"Ah," Dumbledore said, and opened one of his drawers to pull out a letter. "You've reminded me. Sirius sent me a letter Harry wrote him, and I think you two ought to know its contents as well as I.

_**'A weird thing happened this morning, though. My scar hurt again. Last time that happened it was because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But I don't reckon he can be anywhere near me now, can he? Do you know if curse scars can sometimes hurt years afterward?'"**_

Dumbledore looked across at his staff members, awaiting their reaction.

"That boy," McGonagall said. "That boy's in trouble already and the school year hasn't even begun yet!" She took off her glasses and rubbed her forehead.

"Have you any theories on the scar front?" Snape asked.

"A few," Dumbledore admitted. "But I don't think I shall burden you with any of them at present, as all of them are highly unlikely and not well formed."

"If his scar _does_ hurt whenever You-Know-Who – "

"The area around the Dursley's has been thoroughly checked, Minerva," Dumbledore said confidently, "and the Weasleys have been told to keep a very wary eye. Even so, I think it unlikely Voldemort is anywhere near Harry. It's simply too large a risk for him to take."

McGonagall sighed, then thought it best to move on to another subject. "Have you found Crouch's elf yet?"

"Pardon?" Dumbledore asked politely.

"I know you too well for that to work, Albus," McGonagall said shrewdly. "You've been searching for Crouch's elf since you found out he dismissed her. Have you found her?"

"She wasn't very difficult to find," Dumbledore said without a qualm. "She was just outside the border of the Crouch residence."

"And where is the elf now?" Snape asked, eager to speak to the creature.

"I've no idea. She saw me and Disapparated. However, I had the fortune of running into Dobby – "

"Dobby?" Snape interrupted. "The Malfoy elf?"

"Formerly the Malfoy elf," Dumbledore corrected.

"You've sent him looking for Winky?" McGonagall asked.

"He's eager for work. Very few are willing to pay house-elves – "

"You _paid_ a house-elf?"

"He's a free elf now," Dumbledore said. "He deserves pay for his labors. As I was saying, I've asked Dobby to look for Winky, as she may very well be crucial to solving this puzzle of ours."

"And what will you do when Dobby finds her?" McGonagall asked after shaking her head.

"Bring her to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, as if it were obvious. "If she is as important as I believe, she's in very real danger."

"Assign her to Gryffindor when she comes," McGonagall said decidedly.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'll set Winky to Hufflepuff. Forgive me, Minerva, but Pomona has a much warmer first, second, and third impression than you, and we need Winky to feel comfortable.

"Now, you must give me specifics on your visit with Igor," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands once and leaning back in his chair, indicating the conversation on Winky and the mysteries surrounding her was closed.

McGonagall sighed. "Severus?"

"You have far more eloquent language," Snape declined the invitation to speak.

"What do you want to hear, Albus? We went and we negotiated, just as you wanted," McGonagall said.

"How did Karkaroff – "

"He was remarkably confident about his school and quite rude to me," McGonagall said testily.

"Karkaroff's prejudices are no secret and your past offends him in multiple places," Snape dully explained, as if he had done so many times already.

"Well he's a petty fool of a man and – "

"Was he willing?" Dumbledore interrupted.

"Very much so," Snape answered.

"If we want a fair game out of him he'll have to be watched like a hawk," McGonagall stated.

Dumbledore nodded, then rather casually asked, "Severus? Any word?"

"I didn't notice anything," Snape said.

McGonagall looked between Dumbledore and Snape, then raised an eyebrow. "Something I should know?" she asked.

"The rest of the staff arrives tomorrow," Dumbledore announced as though he had not heard his deputy. "Once they are here to help, we'll begin preparation for our guests."

McGonagall had one foot out the door before she turned back to Dumbledore. "Have you found a Defense teacher yet?"

"Good night, Minerva."

"_Have you found a Defense teacher yet?_" McGonagall asked more insistently.

"Ask me tomorrow afternoon," Dumbledore suggested, turning his attention to a magazine on his desk.

"Infuriating old man," McGonagall muttered on her way out.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I'm currently hacking up a lung. I bet some review soup would do me good...


	59. Chapter 59

_**FIFTY-NINE– Aboard the Hogwarts Express, The Triwizard Tournament, Mad-Eye Moody**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p><em>Rarely have I been so convinced of your insanity, Albus.<em>

Oh?

_The night before he starts here, of course, your new Defense teacher has to remind everyone why he's called MAD-Eye. _

That incident is already in the process of being smoothed out.

Now we'll just have to deal with him killing a dozen students within the week under the impression that they tried to curse him.

_Perhaps we will have to watch him a little more than the average colleague, but I don't think someone like him could have come at a better time. Are we not in agreement that his knowledge and the things he can teach the students are invaluable at such a time as this?_

_**I side with Minerva and Pomona.**_

_Your reasons are much different than theirs, I think._

_**Would you care to dig that knife in even further, Filius?**_

Minerva, I have a new assignment this year for you.

…_A new assignment? As in I wouldn't have to babysit Karkaroff?_

Yes.

_I'll do it!_

Fantastic. Please keep an eye on Alastor. 

_No! I take it back! I take it back!_

I'm sorry, you already accepted the job.

_I quit!_

Contract.

_Damn it!_

* * *

><p><em>You know we don't poison food here, Alastor?<em>

**Can't ever be certain, Minerva.**

_No one touches the food before it reaches the tables except the house-elves! It won't hurt you to use some manners!_

**I could tell you stories about house – **

_Merlin's beard! There is no reason to eat sausage off a pocket knife here at Hogwarts! No one's out to get you!_

**CONSTANT VIGILANCE!**

_Albus Dumbledore, I swear to you I'll – _

I really don't think you want to finish that thought at this particular time, Minerva.

_Perhaps so._

**What thought, eh?**

_Nothing, Moody._

**I don't like it when – **

_You don't like anything! Now, why don't you sit down for a while and just calm your nerves? No one at Hogwarts is going to harm you, rest assured!_

**Where's that Snape character?**

_You leave him alone, Alastor!_

**Just want to talk to him, is all.**

_If you trust Dumbledore at all, you'll leave Severus alone! You have plenty of other things to spend your time on, namely teaching._

Minerva, the twins.

_Already?_

Fifth floor.

_Weasleys…_

* * *

><p>"You're <em>sure<em> you need this one now?" Madame Pince asked, clutching a book to her chest.

"Yes, Irma," McGonagall said, trying not to sound exasperated.

"But it needs repairs, and – "

"Irma, have I ever given you reason not to trust me with a book?"

Pince seemed to fight with herself, then held the book out to McGonagall with what looked like very great effort.

McGonagall took the book gingerly and set it on top of the rest she had already managed to convince Pince to part with. "Thank you, Irma."

"A week, and then all those are due back!" Pince called after McGonagall as the transfiguration mistress strode out of the library.

"Repairs," McGonagall muttered to herself, looking at the book Pince had been so unwilling to part with. The corners of the cover were simply a little bent from being in a student's back pack.

As McGonagall came closer to the entrance hall, a strange sort of muffled smacking sound reached her ears.

"**Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…."**

Upon hearing Moody's voice, McGonagall picked up pace until nearly jogging. Once she reached the top of the marble staircase, she slowed back to a walk to maintain demeanor.

"**Never – do – that – again – " said Moody.**

McGonagall discovered the source of the sound she heard to be a white ferret bouncing off the entrance hall floor at the command of Moody's wand

"**Professor Moody!" **she said, coming down the stairs.

"**Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher. **

"**What – what are you doing?" **McGonagall asked, watching the ferret go up and down in their air.

"**Teaching," said Moody.**

"**Teach – Moody, **_**is that a student?**_**" **McGonagall couldn't help but shriek and drop the books she had been holding.

"**Yep," said Moody.**

"**No!" **McGonagall exclaimed, then hurried down the rest of the stairs and drew her wand. With a single wave, she turned the ferret into Draco Malfoy, who then rose with a wince and tried to look like he still had some honor in him.

"**Moody, we **_**never**_** use Transfiguration as a punishment! Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"**

"**He might've mentioned it, yeah," said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock – "**

"**We give detentions, Moody!" **McGonagall snapped, trying not to lose her temper. **"Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"**

"**I'll do that, then," said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.**

Malfoy muttered something about his father and Moody took a few steps forward. McGonagall found it incredibly difficult not to reach out and grab Moody to stop his progress, but knew it would only raise another scene likely resulting in a duel.

"**Oh yeah? Well, I know your father of old, boy… You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son… you tell him that from me…. Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"**

"**Yes," said Malfoy resentfully.**

"**Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape…. Come on, you…."**

McGonagall debated intervening as Moody grabbed Malfoy's arm and hauled him off. After a moment, she came to the conclusion that she could not undermine another teacher's authority in front of other students. Stopping Moody from bouncing a student all over the hall was one thing, but he had every right as an instructor to bring Malfoy down to Snape.

She turned to her fallen books and recollected them with a wave of her wand, inwardly swearing as she noticed the book she had worked so hard to borrow had suffered a completely bent cover in the fall from her arms.

McGonagall opened her office door to find Dumbledore sat at her desk, writing out a note.

"Ah, Minerva," he said cheerfully. "I – "

McGonagall set her books down heavily. "You need to talk to Moody."

"Come now," Dumbledore said. "You're perfectly capable of – "

"He transfigured Malfoy into a ferret and had him smacking against the entrance hall floor!" McGonagall hissed.

"Did he?" Dumbledore asked interestedly.

"This isn't _funny_, Albus!"

"You're quite right," Dumbledore said. He rose from McGonagall's chair and held it for her. "Sit, why don't you?"

"No," McGonagall declined. "Will you talk to Alastor or not?"

"I will," Dumbledore promised.

Satisfied, McGonagall walked around to the other side of her desk and sat in her seat as Dumbledore took a chair across her.

"I've received lists of students from Igor and Olympe. Both are bringing all of their seventh years and a select few from sixth year," Dumbledore said.

"That was fast," McGonagall commented. "Where are we putting them?"

"Both have said they'll bring their own space for their students."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Did they elaborate on that point?"

"No."

"Did you enquire further in your response?"

"No."

"Albus – "

"I think a surprise will be much more entertaining," Dumbledore said, beginning to examine the books McGonagall had picked up. He plucked the top book off the stack and examined the bent cover. "My, my, you're in for a bit of trouble!"

"If you've told me everything you wanted to – "

"Very well," Dumbledore said, rising. "I'll leave you to your own devices."

"Go find Alastor!" McGonagall called just before Dumbledore shut the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Hi. It's almost summer... so... close... almost have time... to write... again...

Review!


	60. Chapter 60

_**SIXTY – The Unforgivable Curses**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Moody**

* * *

><p><em>ALASTOR MOODY!<em>

**It's not right to surprise people like – **

_You want to talk about something that's not right?_

Goodness gracious! How many things can you have a meltdown about within twenty-four hours, Minerva?

_Do you know what he did?_

No, but I –

_He performed the Cruciatus in front of Neville Longbottom!_

Alastor! You cruel, cruel man!

**No sense shielding the boy from it.**

_He's fourteen! Did you really think he'd react well to seeing the curse that drove his parents to insanity?_

**Ah, he was fine after – **

_And the Avada Kedavra! In front of Potter! What are you playing at, Moody?_

**Could be upset about the fact that I did the curses at all, but no. You're upset over – **

_Albus! Do you know about this?_

I do.

_You – you do?_

Alastor and I discussed it after the feast.

_You're okay with this?_

No, but I believe it's necessary.

_NECESSARY?_

I think it is better for the students to see those curses here at Hogwarts, a safe environment, then – 

_I can't believe this! For years and years and YEARS you've been vehemently opposed to – _

Things are quite different this year, Minerva.

_Have you thought of what's going to happen when the Ministry gets wind of this?_

When that problem arises, it will be mine to deal with, not yours.

_And WHAT Maxime and Karkaroff will think we teach our students!_

**Ah, Karkaroff… He's coming, is he?**

_In October. The Triwizard Tournament, Alastor!_

**Another old friend…**

_I think you've had enough of "old friends", Moody! You'd do well to stay away from Karkaroff. We don't need anything else setting you off!_

Chess, Minerva?

_Absolutely not! I'm far too angry with you right now. _

Then I suggest going to Pomona's office to vent.

Oh, you're dumping this problem on me, now?

_You're saved by someone knocking on my door, Pomona._

Lovely.

_If – never mind. It'd be smart for me not to finish that thought owed to certain paranoid persons floating around._

* * *

><p>"Come in," McGonagall said as she closed a notebook on her desk and put it into a drawer.<p>

Hermione Granger strode in and sat down across her professor's desk.

"Four days into term and I have students dropping by my office already," McGonagall sighed. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I want to start a club, Professor," Hermione said, pulling a roll of parchment out of her bag.

While Hermione wasn't looking, McGonagall rubbed her face. "For what, Miss Granger?"

"House-elf suffrage," Hermione said, unfurling her parchment.

"House-elf suffrage?" McGonagall slowly repeated.

Hermione nodded firmly. "It's just despicable how those poor things are treated! _Slave labor, _Professor! And we have hundreds of them down in the kitchens – "

"I'm not sure what has given you the impression that Hogwarts house-elves are not well cared for, Miss Granger," McGonagall said with a raised eyebrow.

"Well they're not paid, are they?" Hermione said, her eyes beginning to darken.

"Being offered pay generally offends them," McGonagall said.

"Over the summer I was told about an elf that was looking for work and couldn't find it because no one would pay him, Professor! This is exactly the problem! House-elves are stereotyped and – "

"Hermione," McGonagall interrupted, speaking frankly, "I see you've done research on this, and I agree that it is not at all admirable, but you must realize that things are very different today than what you'll read in books! House-elves are generally treated well – "

"Some slaves of old were treated 'well'!" Hermione fumed. "That doesn't make their enslavement any more excusable! It's _wrong_!"

"It is wrong," McGonagall agreed. "It's wrong that the elves have been so brainwashed over the centuries, but now is not the time for you to start trying to reverse it. It will take much more time, effort, and publicity than a fourth year has available!"

"Starting now is better than not starting at all," Hermione argued.

"Miss Granger, you are not hearing me. I encourage your endeavors, but not at this point in time. You are fourteen and know all too well that people your age are not often taken seriously. Wait a few years, and then you'll be able to find the pull and influence you need to begin this change."

Hermione stuffed her parchment back into her bag without rolling it up. "I will _not_ sit idly by!"

McGonagall considered a rebuttal, then decided against it and said instead, "Very well. Simply keep in mind that this should not be your top priority."

Hermione left without another word, very nearly slamming the door on her way out.

McGonagall leaned forward to massage her temples. This was just the beginning of the year. Things would only get worse.

* * *

><p><em>If that contract of mine disappeared, Albus, I'd be able to quit, correct?<em>

Oh, don't worry. I've made copies. Rest assured you'll be here all year.

_Damn._

* * *

><p>McGonagall had only just crawled into bed, quite thrilled to go to sleep, when someone knocked on her door. She muttered to herself as she put on her slippers and dragged her feet over to her door, then opened it.<p>

"Albus," she said dully. "This had better be very important."

"It is," Dumbledore said quite casually. "Sirius is coming back to the area."

"Is he insane?" McGonagall hissed, stepping into her office and closing her bedroom door, which transformed into a book case. "After he just _barely_ escaped last year?" She sat down heavily at her desk. "Just because the Ministry's occupied with the Tournament does not mean – "

"He's well aware," Dumbledore said. "He's been debating for a while now, but he wants to be here for Harry."

"For – Has something else happened?" McGonagall asked shrewdly, drawing her eyebrows together.

"No, but Sirius is not fool, and neither are you. Both of you know there's more to come, and when it does, Sirius wants to be available for Harry."

"He's not going to be very available back in Azkaban!" McGonagall argued. "He can't come right back to the lion's den! Have him stay in France or Spain."

"His mind's made up," Dumbledore said somewhat sadly. "I've recommended a few places for him to stay in safety. I believe he plans on heading to Remus's first, and I've begun to work up a network in the Ministry that should - Yes, Minerva?" he asked in response to his deputy's sudden change in expression.

McGonagall looked intently at Dumbledore. "You're beginning to reform already," she said faintly.

"Reform?"

"The Order," McGonagall said.

"I will only bring back the Order as a last resort," Dumbledore stated.

"If you're starting to look for members already, though…"

"Yes, I think it's likely a last resort will be necessary," Dumbledore said with a nod.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I'm finally free from school! SCORE! Now I can write again. Quite literally everything I've put up since August I wrote during _last_ summer, hence my sluggish updates. I would have hated to run out of material.

Anywhoozle. I less than three reviews.


	61. Chapter 61

_**SIXTY-ONE – Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, The Goblet of Fire**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Moody**

* * *

><p><em>This is officially too far, Albus.<em>

Pardon?

_Are you aware what Moody's doing in class now?_

**Teaching!**

_Hardly! He's been putting the Imperius on students!_

Yes, I am aware.

_WELL WHAT'S NEXT? The Cruciatus? While we're at it let's see if Potter can survive the Avada Kedavra a second time!_

Minerva – 

_No! No, I will not sit here and let you try to calm me down! This isn't safe, it's – _

**The world's not safe, Minerva! Think you're doing your pretty little students any good by not telling them what the real world's like?**

_The world's not like that anymore, Alastor!_

_Have we not agreed that it might very well be again soon?_

…_I'm outvoted, aren't I?_

_I believe so._

_Fine. Fine! I give up!_

'**Bout time!**

_There's no reason to be mean, Alastor._

**No reason to over react about every little thing, either.**

_**How very hypocritical of you, Moody.**_

**Ah, Snape. I've been looking for you. Hiding, are you?**

_**I've been very busy, Moody, what with preparing for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang's arrival. **_

**Yet you're never in your office. What are you doing, Snape?**

Severus is doing as I have instructed him, Alastor. Rest assured you have no need to keep an eye on him.

**Hmmm.**

* * *

><p>"Merlin's beard, I wish we could just fast forward time until the year was over," Sprout said darkly as she stood in the Great Hall very late at night with the three other Heads of House. "I'll admit here and now I'll be spending as much time out on the grounds as I can while Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are here."<p>

"Oh no, you won't," Flitwick said. "I will not be taking care of Beauxbatons by myself!"

Snape's lip twitched in an annoyed fashion as he looked at McGonagall.

"What, you think I'm happy about having to babysit Alastor all year? I'll trade you, Severus! I'll take care of Karkaroff!" McGonagall said.

"No thank you," Snape said stiffly. "I'd rather teach no one else but your Gryffindors than deal with Moody all year."

"Well then don't you sneer at me!" McGonagall snapped. "It's not my fault Dumbledore hired someone that can't be trusted not to throw curses whenever someone sneezes."

"Why don't you try to get someone else to keep an eye on him?" Flitwick suggested, standing on top of his House's table and waving his wand.

"I _have_ tried," McGonagall said dully. "I'd almost gotten Charity to agree to it when Dumbledore found out. I'm stuck."

"Tough luck," Sprout said, taking a moment to scrape a chunk of dirt out from under her fingernail.

"You are going to clean up before Maxime and Karkaroff get here, aren't you, Pomona?" McGonagall asked anxiously.

Sprout looked affronted. "Pardon me for being paid to dig around in dirt all day, Minerva."

"I didn't mean it that – never mind," McGonagall muttered, then moved to stand in front of the Gryffindor table and drew her wand.

"Should we put up banners for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang?" Flitwick asked after completing his Ravenclaw banner.

"No," Snape said almost immediately. "We're going enough out of our way." With a final flourish of his wand, he finished Slytherin's decoration and joined Flitwick near the staff table.

"I agree," Sprout said. "I think we're all being ridiculous. Do you know that Argus made two first years cry over not wiping their shoes a few days ago?"

"Well we can't have the other schools thinking we're slobs!" McGonagall objected.

"They know all too well there's no way this castle can be _this_ clean all year round with over six hundred students running amuck!" Sprout argued. "Do you really think the Beauxbatons dining chamber is so spotless once a whole load of teenage boys have gone through it?"

"All the same, we're going to make a good impression," McGonagall said.

Sprout suddenly smiled. "You just want to show Igor up."

"I've no idea what you're talking about, Pomona," McGonagall said haughtily.

"Of _course_ not, Minerva. You'd never stoop to such a petty level," Sprout said airily.

"Not Minerva McGonagall," Snape said. "Sounds nothing like her."

McGonagall twirled her wand quickly and the banners for Hufflepuff and Slytherin crumpled onto the floor. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said insincerely. "I meant to start on the school crest!"

"Two can play this game," Sprout said, waving her own wand. Gryffindor's banner knotted itself hopelessly.

"I believe I asked you to _decorate_ the Hall, not make it look worse," Dumbledore said, striding in.

"Pomona's being an absolute cow, Albus," McGonagall said, pointing her finger.

"_I'm_ being a cow?" Sprout inquired. "_You_ started it!"

"I've no part in this," Flitwick said, stepping away to mend the banners of Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Gryffindor.

"And what do you have to say, Severus?" Dumbledore asked with an amused glint in his eyes.

"I think resurrecting the Tournament was a terrible idea," Snape said unabashedly.

"Have we all released our feeling now?" Dumbledore inquired of his staff.

"No!" McGonagall snarled. "You're a crazy old man and your only goal is to drive as many people over the edge as you can!"

"Through yet?" Dumbledore said patiently.

"Oh, no, you've got a lot coming!"

"I'd really hate to have to restrict you to your office tomorrow, Minerva," Dumbledore sighed.

"Perhaps you should try restricting yourself to your office," McGonagall snorted, then turned to the wall to begin making a large hanging of the Hogwarts crest behind the staff table.

"And what have you to say, Pomona?" Dumbledore asked, turning to Sprout.

"I say this is all the Marauders' fault, when you think about it, and those three remaining boys better watch it when I find them!" Sprout huffed, then moved to help McGonagall.

Dumbledore turned and walked out of the Hall, smiling to himself.

* * *

><p>"Oh, <em>how<em> could we have forgotten about Krum?" McGonagall asked Sprout sourly after breaking up a fight between several sixth year girls hell bent on getting Krum's signature.

"I don't know, but my mood just worsened significantly," Sprout said glumly. She gestured through the doors to the Great Hall. "Look at those Beauxbatons students! Our Great Hall isn't good enough for you, is it?"

"Durmstrang seems happy," McGonagall commented, nodding towards the students taking off heavy cloaks and examining the gold dinnerware.

"Probably eat off of wooden plates at Durmstrang," Sprout snorted.

"Karkaroff pulled out silver things while Severus and I were there, but it wouldn't surprise me if students had to make do with plates that were splintering."

"Minerva," Karkaroff said silkily, coming up behind the pair of witches. "How have you been since you left Durmstrang?"

"I've been well, Igor, thank you," McGonagall forced herself to respond politely. "And yourself?"

"Busy," Karkaroff answered. "Where is Severus?"

"He's here somewhere," McGonagall said.

"I'd better go greet Madame Maxime," Sprout said, excusing herself.

Karkaroff suddenly looked past McGonagall with stone cold eyes, and she was certain without turning back what had caused his change in demeanor.

"Mad-Eye's here this year, is he?" Karkaroff asked.

"Teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts," McGonagall supplied.

"I thought he had retired," Karkaroff said venomously.

"He came to teach this year as a favor to Dumbledore. We've had quite the trouble with holding Defense teachers."

"Favor to Dumbledore, eh?" Karkaroff said unpleasantly. "_Humph._"

McGonagall held back her smirk, not wanting to make things worse than they were already becoming.

Dumbledore announced it was time to enter the Hall. Sprout found McGonagall and the pair walked into the Great Hall and sat down together.

"Merlin's beard," Sprout said lowly during Dumbledore's greeting to the students. "It's not only Krum we'll be tripping over. _Look!_"

McGonagall looked in the direction that Sprout had indicated, at the Beauxbatons students, and after looking over them a few times ground her teeth together. "One of them's part veela," she whispered. "Heaven's sake am I glad we don't have any student-celebrity types at Hogwarts!"

"Oh, yeah," Sprout said with heavy sarcasm. "We just have _Harry Potter_. No big deal at all. No one ever gawks at him."

"Shut it, you," McGonagall said moodily.

Dinner passed pleasantly enough before Dumbledore rose again and introduced the Goblet of Fire. After he'd finished telling the students about the Age Line he planned to set up, McGonagall distinctly saw two red headed boys at Gryffindor table smile widely and groaned inwardly.

"They won't be the only ones to try," Sprout said reassuringly.

"Likely not, but those two are _mine_," McGonagall sighed. She looked out across the hall, then narrowed her eyes. "Karkaroff's found Potter," she said unhappily, watching as the headmaster of Durmstrang did a double take. Before she could rise to save her student from more embarrassment, Moody stepped in. After only a few words, Karkaroff hurried away, ashen faced.

"This year's certain to be pleasant," Sprout said with false cheeriness.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I'm far too mentally exhausted to write a good note now. I had to go back into school to retake a test today. Blech. Gross.

OM NOM NOM NO - Dang it... I'm out of Review-O's! ;)


	62. Chapter 62

_**SIXTY-TWO – The Goblet of Fire, the Four Champions**_

"Would you two _stop_ fidgeting?" Flitwick asked rather impatiently of McGonagall and Sprout.

"Oh, I can't help it, Filius," Sprout said, setting down her fork and knife and beginning to twirl her napkin around her fingers. I'm thinking about Diggory and Minerva's got Johnson on her mind."

"Either would fare well," McGonagall said, trying to keep her hands from shaking in anticipation. "I'd be lying if I said I'd choose either of them over a seventh year, though."

"How many from Ravenclaw entered, Filius?" Sprout asked.

"I don't know," Flitwick said.

Dumbledore rose and silence immediately fell over the entire hall. After giving instructions as to where the chosen champions were to go, he waved his wand and most candles in the hall went out. A minute later, the flames inside the Goblet of Fire turned red.

"Oh, I promise you if he drags this out – " Sprout began as Dumbledore caught a paper the Goblet spit out.

"Shhh, Pomona!" Flitwick demanded.

"**The champion from Durmstrang," [Dumbledore] read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Victor Krum." **

McGonagall looked down at Karkaroff to see him clapping loudly.

"**Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"**

"Oh, I'm too nervous!" Sprout burst, hardly audible even to McGonagall sat next to her. "Time to see if your method works, Minerva!" And she clamped onto McGonagall's arm tightly with both her hands.

A second piece of paper flew out of the Goblet and Dumbledore caught it again.

"**The champion for Beauxbatons," **(Sprout's grip on McGonagall loosened somewhat) **said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"**

The girl that was part veela rose and glided to the champions' chamber.

"That sight ought to cheer you up a bit, Pomona," McGonagall said, nodding ever so slightly to the remainder of Beauxbatons students, a few of which had burst into tears when their names were not called.

"Spoiled little brats," Sprout bit out. "They would cry, wouldn't they?"

The Goblet regurgitated its third piece of paper and Sprout's grip on McGonagall became more vice-like than before. McGonagall couldn't help but wrap her spare fingers around Sprout's arm, herself.

"**The Hogwarts champion," **Dumbledore read loudly, **"is Cedric Diggory!"**

Sprout cried out joyously and released McGonagall to clap loudly in support of her student as he rose to join Krum and Fleur in the champions' chamber. "That's _my_ student! A Hufflepuff, Hogwarts champion!" she said, her cheeks beginning to turn pink with pride.

"Congratulations, Pomona," McGonagall said with a sincere smile, secretly relieved one of her students hadn't been chosen.

"**Excellent!" **Dumbledore said as soon as the din from the Hufflepuff table had quieted enough for him to be heard. **"Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real – "**

Time seemed to freeze as the Goblet of Fire turned red once more.

"Filius," Sprout said anxiously, "do you know – "

"I have absolutely no idea, Pomona," Flitwick said, narrowing his eyes at the Goblet, "but something is very wrong."

McGonagall felt as though her heart had stopped beating as a very, very bad feeling came over her while Dumbledore stared at a fourth piece of paper. Whenever things went terribly wrong at Hogwarts it always seemed to revolve around –

"_**Harry Potter."**_

McGonagall stiffened in shock, then quite suddenly jumped out of her seat and hurried over to Dumbledore.

"This is no coincidence," she said into Dumbeldore's ear, "is it?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

"He has to compete, doesn't he?" she asked.

Dumbledore nodded.

"Sirius is going to be furious when he finds out," McGonagall said as she sadly watched Harry enter the chamber.

"That or very much impressed," said Dumbledore.

"What's this Dumbledore?" Mr. Crouch asked, very suddenly appearing at the headmaster's shoulder, eyes bulging.

"I believe you have about as much of a clue as I do, Barty," Dumbledore said calmly. "Well, let us go congratulate the champions! Minerva, would you be so kind as to grab Severus?"

McGonagall summoned Snape and the two proceeded with Dumbledore, Mr. Crouch, Karkaroff, and Maxime to meet the champions. They found Bagman already chatting happily away with the students.

McGonagall hardly paid attention to the proceedings until Karkaroff spoke accusingly toward Dumbledore.

"**We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," **Karkaroff said, a fixed smile on his face that did not at all reach his cold eyes. **"Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."**

"**It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," **said Snape, infuriating his colleague. **"Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here – "**

McGonagall had been about to intervene, but Dumbledore beat her to it.

"**Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet. **

Dumbledore turned toward Harry and calmly asked him if he'd put his own name in the Goblet, then if he'd had an older student put it in for him. Harry answered no to both.

"**Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" **Maxime said loudly.

"**He could not have crossed the Age Line,"** McGonagall said, unable to hold her tongue any longer. **"I am sure we are all agreed on that – "**

McGonagall's level of anger rose even higher when Maxime interrupted her.

"**Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line."**

"**It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely. **

McGonagall found herself quite grateful she did not have her wand out, for she surely would have cursed Maxime for her audacious suggestion.

"**Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!" **And she shot the angriest look she could muster at Snape.

Karkaroff then began trying to smooth talk Crouch and Bagman into taking Harry out of the competition, and, when that failed, to allow another champion from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Karkaroff had just lost his temper with Bagman for shooting down his second attempt when Moody limped in.

"**You can't leave your champion now," **Moody said after Karkaroff threatened to leave. **"He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding Magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"**

"**Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."**

McGonagall was pleased to note the subtle signs of fear in Karkaroff's stance as he spoke to Moody.

"**Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in the goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."**

"**Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.**

McGonagall very nearly lost herself and had been about to open her mouth to absolutely scream at Maxime, but a sharp look from Dumbledore curbed her impulse.

"**I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic **_**and **_**the International confederation of Wizards – "**

"**If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter, but… funny thing… I don't hear **_**him **_**saying a word," **Moody said, most unhappily.

"**Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. "'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money – zis is a chance many would die for!"**

"**Maybe someone's hoping Potter **_**is **_**going to die for it," said Moody.**

McGonagall ceased paying attention as the wave of horrifying thoughts she had been damming back came over her. A few hours each year was enough, but now the _whole _year? The entire year Harry would be in constant danger and three times he would _have_ to face death. Dread very nearly overwhelmed the poor transfiguration mistress as she thought of the dragons on their way to Hogwarts from Romania for the first task.

All of a sudden both Maxime and Karkaroff led their students away.

"**Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed," **Dumbledore said to the remaining students. McGonagall noticed Harry looked rather distant. **"I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."**

The two boys exited together, leaving Bagman, Crouch, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Moody, and Snape in the room.

"Well, Barty, if you're sure you can't stay the night, you'd better be off," Dumbledore said. Crouch nodded once, then left.

"Barty, Barty, Barty," Bagman said sadly. "That man really ought to get away from the office more often. Well!" he exclaimed, and clapped his hands together. "Care to join in for a drink, Minerva, Severus, Moody?"

"I think not, Bagman," Snape said stiffly, then swept out of the room.

"I don't see why not," Moody said. Then, contradicting himself somewhat, he took a swig from his hip flask.

"Professor McGonagall?" Bagman asked with a bit of a bow.

"No, thank you, Ludo," McGonagall said faintly, then left and made a beeline to Sprout's office.

"Pomona!" she called, bursting in.

"Oh, _there_ you are!" Sprout said, sounding much more moody than usual. "Well? Go on! How'd Potter do it?"

McGonagall felt her jaw drop somewhat. "He _didn't!_" she said. "Surely you believe – "

"To be perfectly honest, no, I don't," Sprout shamelessly admitted.

"What, you think _I _helped Potter enter? Is that why you're upset with me?" McGonagall snapped. "You think I _want_ that child competing? I was _happy_ Cedric was chosen! I didn't _want_ to have to worry about one of my House getting killed all year!"

"The one time Hufflepuff gets some attention," Sprout began angrily.

"You're being ridiculous!" McGonagall yelled, and then slammed the door on her way out.

McGonagall retreated to her own office, shut and locked the door, then sat at her desk, took her glasses off, and put her face in her hands. How long she sat she did not know, and she was only pulled out of her thoughts by a knock on her door. She quickly sat up and jammed her glasses onto her face. "Come in," she managed to say in her normal voice.

Dumbledore entered after magically unlocking the door and sat across his deputy, studying her face intently. "You don't fool me a bit, Minerva."

McGonagall pulled her glasses off again and rubbed her forehead. "There's no way we can get him out?" she asked.

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore said sadly. "Even if we could I'm not so sure I would."

McGonagall's eyes narrowed as she snapped her head up to glare at Dumbledore.

"If we managed to pull him out of the Tournament, how would we find out who entered him?" Dumbledore asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" McGonagall asked. "It was Karkaroff! He must have noticed something and then seen this as the perfect opportunity to off Harry and earn favor with his 'Dark Lord' after turning in so many other Death Eaters!"

"Much as you'd like to think differently, Minerva, Igor is no fool," Dumbledore said patiently, "and only a fool would think that Voldemort would show mercy after such a treacherous act."

McGonagall shuddered at Voldemort's name. "Who else would it have been? We know it wasn't Severus, and it couldn't have been one of the students."

"I haven't a clue, Minerva."

"Let me coach him," McGonagall said suddenly.

"Pardon?"

"Let me coach Harry," McGonagall repeated.

Dumbledore sighed. "Minerva, - "

"Against the rules," McGonagall said dismally, putting her face back into her hands. "I can't do this, Albus! I can't stand by and watch while – "

"You can and you will," Dumbledore said firmly. "I need you here, Minerva."

McGonagall shook her head from side to side miserably and Dumbledore noticed a tear slide through her fingers. "He's been through enough! I can't!"

"You can't leave him now," Dumbledore said, seeming rather unsympathetic. "He'll be relying on you."

"And I'll have to turn him down whenever he asks for my help!" McGonagall said, still not showing her face. "Oh, _why_ did you have to do this to us, Albus? _Why_ did you bring back this God forsaken tournament?"

Dumbledore sighed and did not give an answer, merely waited until his deputy showed her face again and put her glasses back on.

"Can I count on you or not, Minerva?" he asked simply.

"What an utterly ridiculous question," McGonagall said with some amount of her usual snap.

"And Pomona will come 'round, I'm sure," Dumbledore said as he rose and made to leave the office.

"Gone and spoken with her already, have you?" McGonagall asked waspishly.

"She's quite as hard to convince of things as you, when she puts her mind to it," Dumbledore said conversationally, "but I wouldn't be too terribly concerned if I were you."

"Far too late to tell me not to be concerned," McGonagall said unhappily.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Drama, drama, drama. -deep sigh- One day all women will learn to just calmly discuss their issues with each other. ... ... ... LOL, JK. We all know that won't ever happen. :P

WHOAH! It's been a year since I threw this story up on this site... I deserve a medal... or a review. I'd settle for a review.


	63. Chapter 63

_**SIXTY-THREE – The Weighing of the Wands, The First Task**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Moody**

* * *

><p><em>Is the year through yet? I've seen quite enough teenagers ogling other teenagers in the past week to last me a lifetime. It's almost as bad as when Lockhart was here.<em>

_**Your fourth years started a nice bit of pandemonium outside my classroom today.**_

_Oh, and I'm sure your Slytherins had absolutely no part in creating it! I was wondering what Granger was doing in the hospital wing with her front teeth grown half way down her chest. _

_**Evidently you didn't hear about – **_

_Goyle was sent back to class thirty minutes later!_

_I don't think you've heard the worst bit of news, Minerva…_

_I can't handle any more bad news, Filius._

_No, really, you ought to be forewarned… So should you, Pomona. I know you're lurking around somewhere._

What more screw ups can happen this year?

_If I've told you once – _

What's your news, Filius?

_Well you already know, Albus._

Most likely, but please, share anyway.

_Rita Skeeter's covering the Tournament._

_NO!_

How wonderful. The leader in spreading rumors here at –

_You'd know all about – _

I think we'd better focus on our classes!

_Fine._

Very well, Dumbledore.

_What on earth do you plan on doing about those two, Albus?_

They'll come to their senses eventually.

_If they manage not to kill each other first!_

Well then we're very lucky they're avoiding each other, aren't we?

* * *

><p><em>Albus, can I kill Rita Skeeter?<em>

I'm afraid you won't do me much good in Azkaban, Minerva.

_Have you seen the article Skeeter printed?_

I have not.

_She didn't even mention Cedric! And she spelled Fleur and Viktor's names wrong! Oh! AND she's starting rumors about Harry and Hermione!_

What would you have me do?

_Keep her off the grounds! She's the last thing we need here! Really, even YOU would lose your temper with this article! So packed full of lies I don't think there's a – _

Perhaps you ought to go take a walk out on the grounds and clear your mind, Minerva.

_Nice try, Albus. If I go outside I'm bound to run into Pomona, and the only people I want to see less than her are Snape and Skeeter._

Now really, Minerva.

_NO, Albus! I haven't done anything wrong in this matter and I therefore refuse to apologize for anything! If she wants to continue being petty and thick-headed, so be it!_

_I think you want to add Olympe and Igor to your list of people to avoid, Minerva…_

_Why don't I just hole up in my office for the rest of the year? Will that make everyone happy? Honestly! What on earth have I done?_

_**Allow me to answer your questions – **_

_Anyone but you can answer those questions! Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on Karkaroff about now?_

_**Shouldn't you be looking after Moody? I heard he nearly hexed some second – **_

_I've had enough of this!_

_Really, Severus! _

_**What?**_

_Never mind. On a different note… I think you ought to discourage your house from wearing those badges…_

_**But they're so delightfully charming.**_

_They're awful! I'm about ready to start docking points for them! Supporting Cedric is perfectly fine, I encourage it, but I don't like the idea of openly bashing Harry, especially not when we have so many guests wondering around! What kind of impression does that give?_

_**Students have a right to express themselves, Filius. I will not deny them that right.**_

_Come now, Severus! Surely you can see how damaging – _

_**I will not, Filius.**_

_Very well. Pomona, are you here?_

Not really.

_What do you think of those badges?_

I agree with Severus.

_Really, the pair of you! I'm with Minerva. I want this year to be done and over with! Heaven forbid we ever host the Triwizard Tournament again while I'm still here!_

* * *

><p><span>Let it be known that the dragons are now here and under no circumstances should any student be entering the forest.<span>

_**Any intelligent student would know not to go in it at any point in time.**_

_You're hilarious, Severus, really. You should quit and become a comedian._

_What breeds are there, Albus?_

I'm afraid I can't tell you, Filius.

_I'm sure Olympe and Igor will know before the day's gone by. Might as well – _

No, Minerva! No matter what your opinion of our guests, the Hogwarts champions will adhere to the rules.

_**A little late for that.**_

**Why not tell the boys, Dumbledore?**

_Ah! An ally!_

**If Delacour and Krum are going to know, Potter and Diggory ought to know. Can't have the kids going in on uneven ground – it's not honorable.**

We ARE being honorable. Sinking to the level of others does not excuse behavior, Alastor, Minerva.

_Excuse, no. But how much do you think I care at this point? I'd like to see both our champions come out alive, wouldn't you?_

Very much so, but they will walk into the first task on Tuesday exactly as they should, armed with only their wands and their fast-thinking.

_Infuriating old man!_

Must I restrict you to your office and classroom until Tues – 

_I'm going to bed._

* * *

><p><em>Albus, I hate you.<em>

What could I possibly have done now?

_Potter's only just gone back to the common room and it's two in the morning!_

And how is this my fault?

_He can't sleep and he's going to get eaten by his dragon and it's your fault because you didn't find a way to get him out of the Tournament!_

_**Let me guess – you didn't give him detention or dock points, did you, Minerva?**_

_No, I didn't, and I don't want to hear whatever smart comments you have to offer, and trust me when I tell you you're much better off not saying them._

I'm sure Mr. Potter will be just fine tomo – 

_HE'S A FOURTEEN YEAR OLD BOY GOING UP AGAINST A FULL GROWN MOTHER DRAGON WITH NO SORT OF PREPARATION!_

He's on even footing with the rest of the champions.

**I wouldn't believe that for a moment.**

_Neither would I!_

**You think Karkaroff and Maxime haven't found out about the dragons and trained their champions up? Not everyone plays by the rules, Dumbledore. In fact, you're one of the few that does.**

Win or lose, Hogwarts will do it by the rules.

_Why should we go by the rules when Karkaroff and Maxime are so obviously not?_

We've no evidence - 

_ARE YOU BLIND? I know you always give people the benefit of the doubt, Albus, but this is a matter of students' lives! You can't possibly – _

Cedric and Harry will walk into the first task exactly as they should – armed with only their wands and fast-thinking!

_Contract or no contract, if something happens to either of those boys tomorrow I will not be able to stand being here another day!_

You told me that I could count on you, Minerva!

_Well that promise will expire upon the sight of one or both of those boys being burned to a crisp or devoured._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Dragons be hungry... nom nom nom! I bet chomping down on some reviews would keep them from eating Harry. Reviews are quite chewy...


	64. Chapter 64

_**SIXTY-FOUR – The First Task**_

"Minerva, you've got to eat something," Flitwick said during lunch.

"Easy for you to say," McGonagall snapped moodily. "It's not one of your Ravenclaws running the very real risk of – "

"Yes, I know, but you not eating isn't going to help Harry at all," Flitwick reasoned.

"I already feel like throwing up without having eaten anything, Filius," McGonagall snarled. "Drop the issue!"

"Well, then in that case, you should probably collect Harry," Flitwick suggested. "I think Pomona's already grabbed Cedric."

McGonagall popped out of her chair and hurried over to Harry, relieved to have something to do. Her relief quickly evaporated at the sight of Harry's face. **"Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now…. You have to get ready for your first task."**

"**Okay," said Harry, standing up, his fork falling onto his plate with a clatter.**

Hermione whispered to Harry as he left, but McGonagall didn't hear as she was preoccupied trying to think of unrevealing advice she could give Harry, who seemed, quite understandably, unlike himself.

Once out on the grounds, McGonagall couldn't help but put a hand on Harry's shoulder. **"Now, don't panic," **she wasn't entirely sure if she was talking to herself or Harry, **"just keep a cool head…. We've got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand…. The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you…. Are you all right?"**

"**Yes," **said Harry in a monotone. **"Yes, I'm fine."**

McGonagall knew it was a lie, and began to feel quite disgusted with herself as she continued to lead Harry towards the dragons, wondering if this might be the last time she'd see him alive.

As they came closer to the champions' tent, McGonagall said as steadily as she could manage (which was not very steadily at all), **"You're to go in there with the other champions and wait for your turn, Potter. Mr. Bagman is in there… he'll be telling you the – the procedure…. Good luck."**

"**Thanks," said Harry in a flat, distant voice.**

McGonagall somehow managed to leave Harry at the entrance of the tent without blurting out what he was up against before heading toward the stadium that had been set up around the dragons. Karkaroff and Maxime were already sat at the judges table on opposite sides, not speaking to each other. Sprout had seated herself in a section of the elevated stands designated for the Hogwarts staff. McGonagall claimed her own space and watched as students filed excitedly in.

Crouch and Dumbledore came in at the same time.

"Well, what's the word?" Sprout asked eagerly as the pair passed her by.

"Cedric's going first," Dumbledore said. "Fleur's second and Viktor third," he told Maxime and Karkaroff respectively. "Minerva, Harry's – "

"Last," McGonagall said resignedly. Wonderful. Her nerves would work their way higher and higher with each of the other champions, increasing her chances drastically of a nervous breakdown before Harry even walked onto the arena.

A Swedish Short-Snout was brought out onto the arena and, quite suddenly, Sprout was at McGonagall's side.

"I can't pretend to be mad at you anymore," Sprout said tightly, "and I can't sit through this by myself. I know no one, especially you, wanted Harry to – "

"Cedric's walking on, Pomona," McGonagall said, more relieved than she could express to know she had Sprout back, and just in time.

"Our first champion of the day, Cedric Diggory versus the Swedish Short-Snout!" Bagman announced to the crowd.

Luckily for McGonagall's arm, Sprout had clenched her fingers around her hat so tightly she couldn't move them. As Cedric stepped out, McGonagall very purposefully blocked out Bagman's commentary, knowing it would do nothing to soothe her nerves.

"Come on, boy," Sprout said to herself. "That things not going to wait until you're ready! Move!"

And move Cedric did. He whipped his wand through the air and suddenly a Labrador Retriever began bounding around the arena, sufficiently distracting the dragon.

"Yes!" Sprout cried as Cedric dashed toward the eggs.

"He's had a magnificent Transfiguration teacher," McGonagall commented idly, making an attempt, though it went unnoticed, to break tension somewhat.

"_He got it!_" Sprout said excitedly once Cedric had grabbed the golden egg after several failed attempts.

Things changed quite drastically as the dragon noticed Cedric running away. With an angry roar, it abandoned the Labrador and set a jet of fire after its new prey, catching Cedric's side and instantly burning him.

"Run, run, run!" Sprout called out, though there was no way possible Cedric heard her above the students' screaming.

Cedric managed not to break step and made his way out of the arena. Not even a second after he'd made it out, the arena flooded with dragon trainers to subdue the Swedish Short-Snout.

Sprout clapped enthusiastically, then suddenly seemed to remember that Cedric had born the wrath of dragon's fire and leapt out of her seat to go find him.

"Poppy's got Cedric. He's fine, Pomona," Flitwick said soothingly.

"I'm going to go see that bo – "

"You're not allowed to leave until all the champions have gone through," Flitwick stated. "If you do, they might dock Cedric's score!"

Sprout sat back down heavily.

"He'll be back to class tomorrow, Pomona," McGonagall said reassuringly. "Burns are no problem for Poppy."

"Nasty bit of luck about your face, there, Cedric, but some wonderful wand work!" Bagman called out with a magically magnified voice. "Congratulations! Judges?"

"I can't look," Sprout said, and covered her eyes.

McGonagall rolled her eyes, then watched as the five judges gave a score amounting to thirty five points. "Thirty eight, Pomona!" she happily announced. "Thirty eight!"

Sprout removed her hands from her eyes to applaud with the rest of the crowd with a large smile on her face.

"Up next we have the lovely Miss Fleur Delacour against the Welsh Green!" Bagman announced to the crowd. McGonagall saw Madame Maxime visibly tense.

Fleur, looking delicate and pale, stepped into the arena and promptly jumped behind a rock at the sight of her dragon. Maxime began muttering in French and even went so far as stamping her foot, which bounced everyone sitting near her.

Fleur seemed to gather herself, drew her wand, and poked slightly over the top of her rock to begin her spell. As the dragon began to sway slightly, McGonagall looked over at Flitwick, who was watching Fleur intently and suddenly cracked a smile.

"Oh, bravo!" he exclaimed, clapping his small hands. "Very nice charm work!"

As the dragon nodded off, Fleur bolted out from behind her rock, grabbed her golden egg, and had begun to dash back when the dragon snored and let out not only a loud noise, but a jet of fire that caught Fleur's skirt. Fleur yelped, but put out her skirt quickly with another spell and ran out of the arena.

"_Magnifique!_" Maxime said loudly, clapping louder than anyone else around her.

Fleur received a score of thirty seven from the judges.

"Very well done, Miss Delacour! Very well done! Up now is Viktor Krum versus the Chinese Fireball!" Bagman announced enthusiastically.

Krum walked onto the field, already breathing heavily, and studied his dragon as his dragon studied him. Then, with great speed, Krum slashed his wand through the air. The dragon did nothing but roar as his spell reflected off the space between its eyes. Twice more Krum tried, finally hitting the dragon in the eye.

The Chinese Fireball let out a bellow of agony and began to stumble around in pain. Krum took advantage of the dragon's distraction, rushed forward, grabbed his egg, and hurried out of the arena.

"Don't think the judges or the trainers are going to be too happy about those smashed eggs," Bagman said over Karkaroff's loud whistling. "Perhaps a few points off, but that's our fastest time yet! Very quick thinking!"

McGonagall did not pay attention as Krum's scores were given. She was too busy watching the dragon trainers set the stage for the next and last champion.

"Are you ready, Minerva?" Sprout asked.

"Absolutely not," McGonagall said without shame, her eyes locked on the door that, at any moment, a dragon would come through.

"Well, when you latch onto my arm, do try not to break it," Sprout said with a forced smile that McGonagall did not see.

"And up last we have Harry Potter pitted against the Hungarian Horntail!" Bagman shouted.

McGonagall whipped her head around and glared daggers at Dumbledore. "A Hungarian Horntail?" she mouthed furiously.

Dumbledore nodded gravely, then turned his attention to the arena.

McGonagall snapped her own gaze back around in time to see Harry half-wobble into the arena. The poor boy raised his wand and yelled something McGonagall had no hope of hearing amidst all the other students' shouts, and then he simply stood.

"No," McGonagall breathed. "Move, move, move Harry! Move, try again!"

To the crowd's amazement, a Firebolt whizzed through the sky, straight toward Harry. McGonagall was so relieved to see the broom she actually laughed. Harry was such a quick and agile flier that her worry of him dying nearly vanished.

Harry hopped onto his broom and promptly zoomed up into the air, out of the reach of the Horntail, and looked down, surveying his situation.

"Brilliant!" McGonagall commented.

"Now he just has to get that Horntail away from the eggs," Sprout said, bringing McGonagall back to earth.

"Right," McGonagall said firmly, her euphoria dissipating as she began to think through ways Harry might try getting the golden egg.

Harry suddenly hurdled through the air, pulling up just before hitting the ground. As he pulled out of the dive, the dragon shot a jet of fire where he would have landed.

"**Great Scott, he can fly!" **Bagman shouted, though McGonagall hardly heard. **"Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"**

"Higher, higher," McGonagall said quietly as Harry spiraled upward, the Horntail following him with her eyes closely. "Get it off the – No!" McGonagall cried as Harry dove far too soon. She screamed loudly as the dragon's tail caught Harry across the shoulder. Luckily, Sprout had had the foresight to throw her hand over the Head of Gryffindor's mouth and no one heard the unsettling sound.

"I'm going to kill Albus," McGonagall said weakly after Sprout had moved her hand. "One way or another, that man is going to die by my hands!"

"Just watch Harry, Minerva," Sprout suggested.

"I am!" McGonagall snapped. She glued her eyes back onto Harry. "Get the damn thing off the ground, then you can get that egg!"

"Good thing no students sit in this box," Sprout commented.

"Shut up!" McGonagall said shortly as Harry began weaving through the air again, teasing the dragon. He managed to get the dragon to fully extend her neck, and try though she might to get him with her tail or her fire, he remained elusive.

Finally the dragon went up onto two legs and spread her wings. Harry dove to the ground so quickly if one had blinked at the wrong time they would have missed it. He seized the golden egg and flew speedily away with it. The crowd erupted in cheers. McGonagall was among the first to jump out of her seat to clap, and did so at quite an impressive volume.

"Minerva! Minerva! We can go see them!" Sprout quite literally yelled into McGonagall's ear, as that was the only thing that could get the Head of Gryffindor's attention.

McGonagall and Sprout dashed down onto ground level and split their separate ways. McGonagall soon realized she was running alongside Hagrid and Moody to find Harry.

Harry was flying back toward the stadium, and McGonagall beckoned him to come faster with quite the grin on her face.

"**That was excellent, Potter!" **she exclaimed as Harry dismounted from his broom. She caught sight of torn fabric and remembered the dragon's tail tagging Harry's shoulder. She pointed at it and said, **"You need to see Madam Pomfrey before the judges give out your score…. Over there, she's had to mop up Diggory already…."**

"**Yeh did it, Harry!" said Hagrid hoarsely. "Yeh did it! An' agains' the Horntail an' all, an' yeh know Charlie said that was the wors' – "**

"**Thanks, Hagrid," **Harry said loudly, cutting Hagrid off. McGonagall felt the inclination to raise an accusatory eyebrow at Hagrid, but quickly realized that if he had, in fact, shown Harry the dragons before the event, she would rather thank Hagrid for putting Harry back on even ground than turn him in to Dumbledore.

"**Nice and easy does the trick, Potter,"** Moody said in a voice slightly more pleasant than his usual.

McGonagall's eyes once again caught sight of Harry's shoulder and decided enough was enough. **"Right then, Potter, the first aid tent, please…."**

"Minerva, come on!" Sprout called a short distance away. "The scores will be up soon!"

McGonagall joined Sprout and walked back into the arena.

"You should have seen your face, Minerva," Sprout said with a smile, "especially when the Horntail got Harry with its tail. Merlin's beard, the _sound_ you would have made if I hadn't stopped it!"

McGonagall felt her cheeks warm slightly and reverted to biting sarcasm to cover the fact. "Yes, yes, dear me, being a bit jumpy while – "

"I'm only giving you a hard time, Minerva! I'm sure I didn't look all that great while Cedric was out, either," Sprout said with a laugh.

"All right, Minerva?" Flitwick asked as she and Sprout sat down. "I thought you were about to faint when – "

"I'm fine, Filius. Thank you," McGonagall tried not to snap.

"Ah! Here comes Harry!" Flitwick said, looking across the stadium as Harry walked on, his broom slung over his shoulder and Ron at his side. McGonagall looked at Ron quizzically. How long had it been since she'd seen the two boys stand next to each other?

"Minerva, Olympe," Sprout said, pointing.

McGonagall looked over as Madame Maxime raised her wand and an eight appeared in the air. She applauded, happy Maxime was reasonable in her judging. Crouch gave a nine, as did Dumbledore, followed by Bagman giving a ten.

"Oh, come now, Ludo," McGonagall said, shaking her head. "He's _my_ student and _I_ wouldn't have given him a _ten_!"

Sprout and Flitwick shot their colleague an odd look.

"What?" she snapped. "He was injured!"

"You wouldn't give him a full score just because he almost died aga – I don't believe it!" Sprout exclaimed as Karkaroff gave Harry a four. "You gave Krum a ten, you scheming scumbag, and he destroyed half his dragon's eggs!"

McGonagall frowned, but refrained from comment. Even with Karkaroff's lousy call, Harry had tied with Krum for first.

"There's no point in sticking around here!" Flitwick said cheerily, hopping to his feet even though it hardly made a difference. "We must celebrate! I'll expect everyone in the staffroom within thirty minutes!" And the tiny professor jumped down and began threading through the legs of spectators back to the castle.

"Oh, gracious! That's all done and over with!" Sprout said with a relieved smile as she and McGonagall exited the stadium.

"And now it'll just start all over again with the second task," McGonagall said, though she too was smiling.

"Well we have a few months to let our nerves – "

McGonagall didn't get to hear Sprout finish her thought as she was suddenly jerked away from the crowd.

"So sorry about that, Professor," said a woman insincerely. "I was trying to get your attention but you simply didn't notice!"

McGonagall straightened her glasses and then looked down at Rita Skeeter with intense dislike. "What is it you've so rudely dragged me aside for, Miss Skeeter?"

"Just a couple of quick questions, Professor!" She plowed on before McGonagall could say anything, "You must tell me what on earth was going on in your head during - "

"Miss Skeeter, I'm very tired," McGonagall said waspishly, "and I'm no fan of being interviewed."

"Oh, but you've been in _Transfiguration Today_ multiple times," Skeeter argued. "How different is it from _The Prophet_, really? Now, - "

"Miss Skeeter, I am going to go back into the school and you are going to leave me out of your next article. Do I make myself clear?"

McGonagall turned and walked away before Skeeter could try her luck with another argument.

"She'll be after you soon," McGonagall said to Sprout as she caught back up.

"Oh, I doubt it," Sprout said airily. "She's all yours, Minerva!"

"Really, I don't mind sharing."

"Yes you do."

"Fine. I'll shove her off on Karkaroff and Krum," McGonagall said determinedly.

"I don't think that's going to end well for you either," Sprout said.

"What? Why?"

Sprout only smiled. "Never mind, Minerva. I'll tell you later."

"Maybe I didn't miss you so much after all," McGonagall growled, only causing Sprout's smile to widen.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I prefer to updae a bit later than this... but seeing as my evenings are more full than I'd like, here's the chapter now. Really and truly, I've meant to update for the past 4 days! -sigh- Oh well.

Review!


	65. Chapter 65

_**SIXTY-FIVE – The House-Elf Liberation Front, The Unexpected Task**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Moody**

* * *

><p><em>Will you explain to me yet, Pomona, why I don't want to shove Skeeter off on Karkaroff?<em>

Really, can you not see that won't end well for you?

_Well Karkaroff will like the attention, I'm sure – _

No, I think it'd end badly for one of your Gryffindors, as well. Miss Skeeter has a nasty habit of starting dreadful rumors and as such -

_Well if Karkaroff bashes Potter, Skeeter will give him a chance to defend hims – _

No, not Potter.

_Pomona, I don't want to play any guessing games!_

Have you been in the library recently?

_No. I've been avoiding Irma on the basis that I accidentally bent a book cover. Why?_

How are you still alive?

_Pomona!_

Oh, very well. As you haven't been there… Which of your students has a habit of hanging out in the library for unnaturally long periods of time?

_Granger…_

Do you know who else has been in –

_Are you imagining things again, Pomona? For goodness's sakes! I've heard enough of your match-making babble over the years and I simply – _

Don't you even want to know who?

_No!_

Viktor Krum!

…_Krum? You think Krum's interested in Hermione?_

Why else would he spend hours "reading" books on Ancient Runes when he's not even in that class?

_I've had enough of you, Pomona Sprout. I won't hear anymore of your nonsensical mutterings._

Suit yourself!

_Oh, Albus! I've a bone to pick with you._

Again?

_You've GOT to keep Skeeter off the grounds. Did you read that article she published yet?_

I have not yet found the time. I've been just a tad bit busy, Minerva.

_Well read it. And then take into account the fact that she's forcibly pulling people aside to try to interview them._

Is that so?

_I know she tried to get Potter, and she did try to get me._

Almost threw you to the ground, she did. Get rid of her, Albus!

_Before she causes more trouble._

Or injury.

…

_Albus._

…

_ALBUS!_

Pardon me, I was reading the article you suggested.

_And?_

And I've a letter to write. Good night!

_Ha!_

* * *

><p><strong>++++Nearly two weeks later+++<strong>

_Albus, did you ban Skeeter yet?_

I informed her she was no longer allowed on the grounds, yes. Why?

_Because she's out talking with Hagrid at the moment._

Is that so?

_It is. Your plans?_

She'll leave soon enough.

_I'm forcibly throwing her out next time._

Don't go getting yourself into trouble, Minerva.

_Oh, very well. I'll throw her into the lake, instead. That way the squid – _

Quit while you're ahead, Minerva.

* * *

><p><span>Most marvelous news, my delightful staff!<span>

_You are far too cheerful for my comfort. _

It is time to begin preparations for the Yule Ball!

_No!_

_Oh, wonderful! I've always been disappointed Hogwarts doesn't have any dances for the students._

_I'm not. Do you know how much drama comes with dances?_

How would you know? You've never been!

_To a school dance, no, but I did have to go to the occasional formal with my family and – _

Do try not to have such a bleak outlook, Minerva. It'll discourage the students. Now – 

_I don't think you'll have to worry about me as much as you will Severus._

_**Charming, Minerva.**_

_I do try, Severus._

As I was saying – 

_I really don't feel like hearing anymore, Albus, so if you don't mind – _

Well then it's a good thing you don't have to use your ears at the moment, isn't it, Minerva?

_You and your loopholes._

I'll be off to speak to Igor and Olympe soon, but, Minerva, Pomona, you must make sure Misters Potter and Diggory have partners for the ball.

_You're joking! _

I most certainly am not.

_Strictly speaking, there ARE only supposed to be three champions, so really there should only be three pairs opening the ball, and as such – _

Minerva…

_Are you really going to make me deal with an awkward fourteen year old boy that – _

Yes.

_Infuriating old man…_

Tradition is tradition. I know you can respect that. Pomona?

Yes, yes, I'll be sure to tell Cedric. I'm sure he won't have any issue asking –

_Oh shut up!_

_Well this is going to be just plain marvelous, is it not?_

**Make sure you watch out for girls trying to curse each other out in the halls… dangerous things, dances are…**

_Thanks very much for that, Alastor. _

**I'm just saying, one of them's liable to curse the ear off their best friend if they think – **

Their ear? I'd go for their fingers, personally.

_POMONA! NO! Now look what you've st – _

**Out cursing students, eh, Sprout? Picking fights?**

Alastor, learn to take –

**I'll be keeping a close eye on you, mark my words! You best be careful. If I hear a single – **

_Marvelous job, Pomona. I applaud you._

Oh, shut up!

* * *

><p>Merlin's beard, Alastor! Would you STOP following me around the castle for two seconds?<p>

**It's my job to – **

No, your job is to teach! I assure you, I'm no threat to the students! What I said about cursing off fingers was merely a joke!

**I've heard that story before!**

_**There are other things you could spend your time better on, Moody. Perhaps patrolling the grounds for Miss Skeeter?**_

_Oh? I thought you and her would be great friends by now, Severus. She doing such a job of discrediting Potter and all…_

_**I do find her articles delightful.**_

_You sicken me._

How'd Potter take being told he's got to go to the ball, Minerva?

_Looked like he'd rather take on another Horntail. I can't wait for this year to be over…_

Poor Cedric's getting absolutely badgered in the halls. Two Ravenclaw girls almost -

_No, I don't want to hear it._

Oh, come on. It's not often someone in your House does something foolish, Filius. Let us enjoy the moment.

_Absolutely not. Purely out of interest, which girls were these? I believe I'd like to speak with them…_

No. I if I can't tell the story I'm certainly not giving you names.

**Giving ultimatums now, eh, Sprout?**

Merlin's beard, Alastor! Go away!

Now that sufficient chaos has been created, I'm going to sleep.

_Oh, no you're not! What makes you think I'm going to let you sit up in your office and not share any of this pain?_

The fact that I have locked my office makes me think that.

_Ah, ah, ah, ah! Can't do that, Albus! What if there was an emergency and we had to get to you?_

As deputy head, Minerva, responsibility – 

_You know what, Albus? Go on ahead and lock your office door._

**Out to get the headmaster? CONSTANT VIGILANCE, Dumbledore!**

Oh, no… it's like having Horace back all over again!

Why the sudden change in mood, Minerva?

_No reason, Albus._

No, really. You're far too calm now. It concerns me.

_Let's just say I've fig – ALASTOR! PUT YOUR WAND AWAY AND GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!_

This is all your fault, Albus.

I'd assume you'd think nothing less.

_There's a legitimate duel going on in Minerva's office at the moment, Albus. I think you'd better intervene._

Do make sure Igor or Olympe don't wander in while I neutralize the situation.

You've got Karkaroff, Filius! I call Olympe.

_Severus! Karkaroff's your responsibility, is he not?_

_**I'm busy.**_

_I think - _

_**If you'd like to delay me further in getting these potions to Poppy, by all means, continue to distract me.**_

_Oh, fine._

* * *

><p>Dumbledore strode through the halls at his own pace until finally coming to McGonagall's office, where she and Moody were locked in quite the duel. Dumbledore calmly raised his wand and disarmed both his teachers with a single thought.<p>

Determined to have the last word, however, McGonagall sent a nonverbal stinging hex at Moody, catching him on the wrist. Her hair had begun to fall out of its bun and she looked far beyond furious.

"This man is _insane!_" she shouted at Dumbledore while pointing at Moody.

"Much as I appreciate your defense of me, Alastor, I must inform you that dueling in offices, no matter the circumstances, is simply not allowed," Dumbledore said calmly. "Allow me to assure you that Minerva's threats are empty and she means to cause me absolutely no harm, nor does she wish harm upon anyone else."

"Sure had me fooled," Moody growled, limping over to Dumbledore. He took his wand, cast an angry glance at McGonagall, and hobbled out.

"Would you _look_ at this!" McGonagall fumed, gesturing to her office. She bent down to pick up a whole slew of papers that had fallen from her desk to the floor. "And he's burned a whole set of my books!" She slammed the papers down onto her desk and brushed a loose lock of hair out of her face. "He can't stay here, Albus! It's just not safe! What if – "

"Ah, a most dangerous question you're about to ask, Minerva," Dumbledore said, seating himself. "I've found that the 'what if' questions are the most harmful breed of inquiries."

"I could have had a student in here, Albus!" McGonagall snapped. "He's simply too unstable to be teaching children! _How _he's managed not to kill a student yet, I've no idea."

"Your concerns are noted," Dumbledore said as his deputy set to work re-alphabetizing her stack of papers.

"I know you asked him here because of…" McGonagall paused slightly to think of her word choice, "your _concern_ over certain individuals, but really, Albus! He's been following Pomona around all day thinking she's going to curse the fingers off some student, he's driven Severus into hiding, and now he's just attacked me! It's simply – "

"He is only here for the year, Minerva," Dumbledore said. "Just a few more months. Now, while we're on the subject of the Yule Ball – "

"Except that we're not," McGonagall bit out. "Oh, Merlin's beard! Where's Hannah Abbott's essay? I promise you, if that's been burned, too…"

"Does Harry have a partner yet?

"Do I look like the boy's personal assistant?" McGonagall asked. "How should I know? Can I have my wand back yet?"

Dumbledore set McGonagall's wand on her desk and folded his hands. "I suppose you don't know if he's started preparing for the second task, either."

McGonagall fumbled with the book she had been examining for damage. "I'd rather not think about the second task yet, thank you very much, Albus!"

"Well, in that case, you can think about how we ought to decorate the school for Christmas."

"We'll get thirteen trees instead of twelve. How's that sound?"

"Oh, you must consider how terribly that'd upset poor Sybill," Dumbledore said as though somewhat pained.

McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Are you through, yet? I'm tired!"

"Very well," Dumbledore said, and he rose and left.

"And make sure you talk to Alastor again!" McGonagall called after the headmaster.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I have no legitimate excuse. I just haven't felt like writing. -shrug- It happens.

Even though I'm a terrible person for taking so long to update, leave a review!


	66. Chapter 66

_**SIXTY-SIX– The Unexpected Task, The Yule Ball**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Moody**

* * *

><p><em>Well Weasley's gone and made a fool of himself.<em>

Which one?

_Ron._

_**Now tell us something new, Minerva.**_

_Oh, shut up!_

_What's he done?_

_Asked Fleur Delacour to the ball – in front of at least thirty people._

Oh, bravo, Mr. Weasley! Bravo!

_Well she didn't fair too well, either. She'd been flirting with Diggory. He certainly turned her down, though._

'Course he did. He's already asked Chang.

_Oh, well, there goes Potter's date, I'm sure._

Chin up, Minerva! He might still ask Ginny –

_Not that again!_

What? She's a red head, he's James's son –

_No, Ginny's been asked already as well. _

WHAT? By who?

_Neville._

Ah, good lad!

_Fantastic. My champion's going to look fabulous on that dance floor without a partner._

Don't lose hope just yet.

_Easy for you to say._

_Ah! Granger! There IS still hope!_

Granger's taken, too.

_Damn! By who?_

What fun would that be if I told you?

_You co – _

None of that, Minerva.

**Lousy spies you'd make, the pair of you.**

_I take that as a compliment. Now away with you, you – _

_Think first, Minerva. Think first._

_Yes, yes. Thank you, Filius._

Why would we make lousy spies, Alastor?

**Can't keep up on the chatter. One of the most important things about spying, that is.**

What have YOU heard?

**Potter and Weasley both have dates.**

_Oh, what a relief!_

Well, go on, Alastor. Who?

**Patil twins.**

How on earth had the Patils not been asked yet?

_Who cares? Potter's got someone to open the ball with! Ha! _

_**A pity he can't break another Hogwarts tradition. He seems so fond of – **_

_Can it, Severus! I've just had an enormous load taken off my shoulders and you are not going to ruin my good mood!_

_**I'm surprised you're not in a bad mood already.**_

_Any why, pray tell, is that?_

_**Pomona won't tell you who Granger's going with.**_

_And I suppose you know?_

_**I'm not the one who brought it up originally. Go on. Ask Pomona.**_

You're a cruel man, Severus.

_He's got a point, though…_

I'm not telling you.

_Come on, now!_

I think now's as good a time as any to turn in for the night!

_Fine. I'll simply get Pomona tomorrow._

Oh, but see, now you've made a threat and we all know what happens then…

_But now we're in the same boat…_

Are not.

**Come on, Dumbledore! They're clearly out to kill!**

I think you'll do well to stay in your office and catch up on grading tomorrow, Alastor. I will handle whatever Minerva and Pomona try to throw at each other, rest assured.

…

_Are too, Pomona. Good night!_

* * *

><p>"<em>Krum?<em>" McGonagall hissed into Sprout's ear as the Durmstrang students entered the castle, Krum leading the way with Hermione. "_Krum_ asked Granger and you didn't tell me?"

"Well I thought you might have pieced it together," Sprout said. "Evidently, you still have a lot to learn in the area of – "

"I occupy my mind with more important things, Pomona," McGonagall said. She sighed heavily. "This is not going to end well."

"Oh, come on, Minerva!"

"Just you wait! I'm telling you _something's_ going to happen, and it – "

"You really need to spend less time around Sibyll, Minerva."

McGonagall wisely chose to walk away from Sprout and summoned the champions. **"Champions over here, please!"**

As students processed into the Great Hall, McGonagall noticed several girls shoot Hermione looks of loathing. Her evening was rolling downhill fast.

"Partners, line up and follow me," McGonagall told the champions and their dates, then led them to the table at the front of the hall. She noticed that Karkaroff seemed particularly displeased with Krum's choice of date and her mood picked up slightly.

"Couldn't be bothered with dress robes, Severus?" McGonagall asked as she sat between him and Sprout.

"No," Snape said simply. "Could you not be bothered with proper formal wear, either? It looks like you're wearing a table cloth."

McGonagall adjusted the sleeve of her red tartan dress robes with her nose slightly upturned at Snape. "At least I put some effort into this event," she said.

"I helped decorate, did I not?" Snape muttered.

"You did," McGonagall admitted, "but then Filius had to go back over all your work and fix it."

"Shhhh! Shhh, shhh!" Sprout said, then nodded slightly at Hermione, who was trying to teach Krum how to properly pronounce her name.

"**Her-my-oh-nee," [Hermione] said slowly and clearly.**

"**Herm-own-ninny,"** Krum attempted.

"**Close enough," [Hermione] said.**

"So the stereotype about sports stars is true," Snape said, thoroughly unamused.

"I think it's cute," Sprout said.

"No, Pomona," McGonagall said sternly. "You are not starting that. Absolutely not. Drop it."

"Oh, co - "

"No!"

* * *

><p>Far too soon for McGonagall's pleasure, Dumbledore cleared space for a dance floor and the Weird Sisters took their spots on stage. She watched Harry stumble onto the floor and noticed that Parvati seemed to be doing most of the work for the dance.<p>

Unnoticed by all but one staff member, Karkaroff slipped out of the Hall. Snape waited a moment, then followed.

"Come out to supervise the garden, have you?" Snape asked as he stepped outside into the rosebush-walled garden Sprout and Hagrid had grown overnight.

Karkaroff did not turn to look at Snape as he spoke. "I was hoping you'd follow." He waited for Snape to step up next to him and then began walking. "Have you noticed anything…_strange_ since the World Cup?"

"If you've come out here to make me play guessing games, Igor, I'm going back inside," Snape said.

"You don't want to go back in and we both know it," Karkaroff bit out. "Your Mark," he said, "has it changed at all?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Has yours?"

Karkaroff looked over both his shoulders, then pulled up his left sleeve to expose his forearm and a nasty black mark. "Something is going on, Severus!"

Snape paused to examine Karkaroff's Mark. It looked just as dark and as detailed as his own had become. "I see nothing out of the ordinary," he lied smoothly, though his insides began to squirm. If Karkaroff had noticed, so had everyone else.

The sound of improper giggling reached Snape's ears and he drew his wand to begin blasting bushes apart to find the misbehaving students.

"You must be blind, then!" Karkaroff snapped. "If this is what I think it is, you and I are done for."

"I believe you are paranoid and are overreacting. I **don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor."**

"**Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening! It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it – "**

"**Then flee," **Snape said impatiently. **"Flee – I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."**

Snape finally blasted apart the right bush to reveal a pair of students who promptly became embarrassed at the sight of their professor and fled.

"**Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett! And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!" **Snape snapped as the couple ran. His level of frustration rose dramatically as he spotted Potter and Weasley just down the path. **"And what are you two doing?"**

"**We're walking," **said Weasley shortly. **"Not against the law, is it?"**

"**Keep walking, then!" Snape snarled. **He stalked off with Karkaroff close on his tail.

"If he _is _coming back – " Karkaroff began.

"You are talking nonsense, Karkaroff!" Snape spat. "You're letting Moody's paranoia about your past activities influence your present thoughts! I've already told you to flee, if you see necessary, but I have no reason to worry one way or another whilst I'm here at Hogwarts."

Karkaroff looked as though he might make a reply, then stormed off without saying a word.

Snape took time to panic in his own way out in the gardens before retreating back into the castle.

"And how many happy couples did you break up on your walk?" McGonagall asked Snape by the punch bowl. "I saw Fawcett and Stebbins tramp in a few minutes ago, but surely you can do better than that?"

"Why don't _you_ go look through that damn garden?" Snape asked moodily.

"I might, but I've been rather busy being _social_, Severus," McGonagall replied. "You ought to try it."

"Says she who, just last week, was trying to avoid this ball at all cost," Snape muttered.

"I've received enough compliments on the tablecloth I'm wearing to change my mind," McGonagall quipped.

"You're only given the compliment because they can't think of anything else to say," Snape argued.

"Well if you're determined to be in this foul of a mood I won't strive to entertain you any further," McGonagall said, and then walked away to leave Snape to his brooding.

* * *

><p>In Snape's opinion, the rest of the ball could not have passed any slower. As students began to file out of the hall at midnight, Snape scanned over their heads for Dumbledore, but didn't find him until he managed to get out into the entrance hall.<p>

"You seem remarkably distracted, Severus," Dumbledore commented.

"I had a walk with Karkaroff," Snape said in explanation.

Dumbledore took care to lower his voice as fewer students were available to make noise in the hall. **"Well?" **he asked quietly.

"**Karkaroff's Mark is becoming darker too. He is panicking, he fears retribution; you know how much help he gave the Ministry after the Dark Lord fell."** Snape turned his head to gage Dumbledore's reaction. **"Karkaroff intends to flee if the Mark burns."**

"**Does he?" said Dumbledore softly. "And are you tempted to join him?"**

"**No," **Snape said firmly, turning back forward. **"I am not such a coward."**

"**No," agreed Dumbledore. "You are a braver man by far than Igor Karkaroff. You know, I sometimes think we Sort too soon…"**

Snape's frown became more pronounced at Dumbledore's last comment.

McGonagall stepped over to her colleagues. "Pomona's about to start on the garden," she announced, then took off her hat and began pulling the thistle she'd arranged off it. "Maxime and Karkaroff went out with all their students already, and – " She stopped short as something in the Great Hall fell and shattered. "Peeves!" she snarled. "I thought you'd taken care of him for the night, Albus!"

"I did," Dumbledore said. "However, it is now 12:05. It's a new day."

McGonagall drew her wand and stomped back into the Great Hall, muttering to herself.

"What shall I do with Karkaroff now?" Snape asked.

"Continue to watch him," Dumbledore said simply.

"Should I make further inquiries?"

"Oh, I hardly think that will be necessary," said Dumbledore. "If he's as spooked as you make him seem, he'll tell you plenty without being prodded. Now come! There's plenty of cleaning up to be done. Merlin forbid we don't assist Minerva!"

"Albus!" McGonagall called from somewhere within the Hall.

Peeves flew out of the Hall, cackling, with a very expensive looking crystal pitcher in hand.

"My dear Mr. Peeves," Dumbledore called to the man floating on the ceiling. "What do you intend on doing with that pitcher?"

"I intend on dropping it on your deputy, your headship!" Peeves said cheerily.

"Now that just won't do," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "I'm really rather fond of that pitcher. I'd appreciate you not breaking it."

"Didn't say nothing about breaking it, your headship!"

Snape stalked away, completely lacking the patience required to deal with Peeves.

"Oh, sure," McGonagall said loudly in the doorway of the Great Hall. "Be concerned about him breaking the pitcher, but, by all means, don't worry about my well being! I'm sure a pitcher to the head from a great height wouldn't hurt at all, Albus! _Accio pitcher!_"

Robbed of his fun, Peeves zoomed away and most unfortunately took the same path Snape had. "What's bothering you, Sour-Grape?" he asked, floating on his side.

Snape drew his wand and, with a bang, the poltergeist was blasted down the hall, out of the potions master's way.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

****Silly Peeves. Really, you think he'd have learned not to mess with Snape or with McGonagall.

"OMGWTF, Alittleinsane? A month to update? Really? _Really?_" Yes, really. I've got lots of stuff to do and, unfortunately, writing is not very high up on that list. *shrug* One day... one day...

Leave a review, despite the fact that I've failed to update for so long!


	67. Chapter 67

_**SIXTY-SEVEN – Rita Skeeter's Scoop**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Moody**

* * *

><p>WHY didn't we force the students to go home over break?<p>

_Yule Ball._

That was a rhetorical question, Filius.

_Rhetorical questions have answers, too._

But you don't voice those answers. That's why they're called "rhetorical" questions!

_Then all I've done is simply taken your rhetorical question and made it not rhetorical._

…

This has hardly been a break at all. Albus, send them all home and give us an extra week off!

I'm afraid I can't do that, Pomona. 

Sure you can! I bet Karkaroff and Maxime would agree to it. Certainly their students want to go home and see their families…

What good will going home do them when all their families will be back at school and work?

…You think too much.

_Come now, Pomona. Yes, classes start back tomorrow, but – _

No. Don't finish that thought. I've just become horribly depressed.

_A hopeless case, really. _

I'm going to hole up in my office and pretend I don't have to teach tomorrow.

_Do try not to eat yourself into oblivion, Pomona._

Shut up, Filius!

* * *

><p><strong>++Next Day++<strong>

_Albus! Have you – _

Yes, Minerva. I have seen. I'm just about to go see Hagrid now.

_That AWFUL woman! I thought you said you'd banned her from the grounds!_

I have. 

_Well, she's been back here at least once, and she WAS talking to Hagrid then… but he wouldn't have talked about – _

Delightful as speaking to you is, Minerva, I believe Hagrid requires my attention more at the moment.

_Right. Send word if I should send an owl to Wilhelmina._

* * *

><p>McGonagall sat in her office, reading over Rita Skeeter's slanderous article on Hagrid for the tenth time. How could the woman live with herself? How could she stand to look in the mirror after publishing such a cruel article on a man who was really quite harmless?<p>

Suddenly, a silvery phoenix appeared in McGonagall's office. She raised her eyes from her paper to look at the thing with quite the unwarranted glare. Dumbledore's patronus. How she had some to hate patronuses…

"Write Madame Grubbly-Plank. Hagrid refuses to be convinced to leave his cabin," Dumbledore's voice emitted from the phoenix, and then it dispersed into the air.

McGonagall scrawled a quick note to Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank and set off for the owlery, her mind deeply occupied and disturbed with Dumbledore's patronus. She hadn't seen a patronus speak in well over a decade, and was by no means eager to begin seeing such things again, as they almost never brought good news.

* * *

><p><strong>++Week Later++<strong>

Hagrid still won't come out, Albus?

I'm afraid not.

I've nothing against Wilhelmina, of course, but really, I do miss Hagrid.

_Agreed. _

_I say we just give it a bit more time. The whole article will blow over and Hagrid will come teach again._

_With the likes of Draco Malfoy strolling around and quoting the article, your theory seems unlikely, Filius, much as I'd like to believe it._

_**And you get upset when I accuse a member of your House.**_

_I don't think you'll find my House talking to Rita Skeeter with the intention of ruining the reputation of one of the staff._

_**There's no evidence of Malfoy's intentions.**_

" '_I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm,' " says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student." Flobberworms don't even have any teeth to bite with!_

_**Keep the article handy to quote, do you, Minerva?**_

_No. It's seared itself into my memory and I can't get rid of it! Wretched, awful woman! I tell you, - _

Just wait, Minerva. We've got a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, and who do you think will just coincidentally show up at The Three Broomsticks at the same time as all the staff and students of Hogwarts?

**More threats, eh, Sprout?**

Oh, Merlin's beard! Don't you have things to better occupy your time with than following my every move, Alastor?

**Following everyone else's moves.**

Albus…

Alastor knows very well you mean no harm, Pomona. 

Does he?

**So Dumbledore says.**

Ah! He lies!

**Takes a liar to know a liar.**

Where's your baby-sitter? Minerva! He's cranky. Get him a bottle.

_Oh, no! I quit baby-sitting. That's Albus's job now._

I'm afraid that your contract states clearly – 

_No. No, no, no, no, no, no it does not. Now you're just making things up. I've my own copy of my contract, signed by the both of us at the beginning of this year, and I've committed it to memory. There is no clause in there about – _

**What's to say YOU didn't modify the contract, McGonagall?**

_I'm not one for breaking rules, Alastor._

**Do I or do I not recall you asking to tutor Potter, and then to tell him about the dragons?**

_You were on my side!_

**Doesn't change the facts.**

_Butt out, Mad-Eye!_

_This is no longer my responsibility, Albus, as I have stated clearly to you before. He's out of my control. I simply can't do it. The man only listens to you._

_**Then you're free to assist with Durmstrang.**_

…

_Why is there no winning?_

Well, Minerva. I suppose I'll allow you to choose you duty then: assisting Durmstrang or assisting Alastor.

_**Allow me to make one thing very clear, Minerva. We are by no means switching duties. I stay with Durmstrang.**_

Well then it appears you have no choice, Minerva.

_I hate you all._

* * *

><p>On the day of the Hogsmeade visit, Flitwick, McGonagall, and Sprout all sat together at a table in <em>The Three Broomsticks<em>, "supervising" students.

"Tell me Alastor's not coming here, Minerva," Sprout said, looking around the crowded bar.

"No, I don't think so," McGonagall said. "I can't imagine he'd want to come to such a crowded place, and I thoroughly hope Dumbledore wouldn't allow him to. I'd prefer not to think about everyone that would end up going to the hospital wing or St. Mungo's."

"I think he may just need to find a new outlet," Flitwick suggested. "He's just got so much nervous energy. He needs to find a release for it."

"Well why don't you go ahead and try to get him started knitting then, Filius?" Sprout suggested cheekily.

"Haha, Pomona," Flitwick quipped. "Pardon me for trying to – "

"What's Ludo doing talking to Potter?" McGonagall asked, looking across the bar at Bagman speaking lowly to Harry.

"Well, if he's helping Potter with the tournament, you shouldn't have any complaints," Sprout said airily.

"I've plenty of complaints," McGonagall said. "I don't trust Ludo any further than I can throw him."

"I think you're a little misguided, Minerva," Sprout said. "He was appointed by the Minister of Magic – "

"What makes you think I trust Cornelius any more than Ludo?" McGonagall asked.

"Well, I'm not a particularly great fan of Fudge's, either, but – "

"Then your point is by no means valid."

Bagman quickly exited the building and a whole table full of goblins rose and went after him.

"Oooh," said Flitwick with a wince. "Looks like Ludo's gotten himself into a mess with the goblins…"

"We all know those damned goblin tempers," Sprout said, taking a sip of her drink.

Flitwick's eyebrows drew together to glare at Sprout. "Skeeter's already gone after Hagrid, don't give her reason to come after me, too!"

"Speak of the devil and he shall come," McGonagall said, and nodded towards the door through which Rita Skeeter had just entered, speaking to her photographer.

"We'd better get out of here before she comes for us," Sprout suggested. "The last thing Hogwarts needs is to have the entirety of its staff – "

"**Trying to ruin someone else's life?"** Harry Potter asked loudly enough for the entire bar to hear.

"Yep, he's your student, Minerva," Sprout said as the Transfiguration mistress put her face into her hand. "Only a Gryffindor could paint themselves into a corner so well."

Skeeter looked absolutely delighted to see Harry. **"Harry!" she said, beaming. "How lovely! Why don't you come and join – ?"**

"I swear to you, boy, if you agree," McGonagall began.

"**I wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot broomstick," said Harry furiously. "What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?"**

"Ah!" McGonagall said, snapping her head back up. "That's what I like to hear, Potter!"

"You won't like it for much longer," Flitwick said. "She'll try to get an article out of him, just you wait!"

"**Our readers have a right to know the truth, Harry**," Skeeter replied. **"I am merely doing my – "**

"**Who cares if he's half-giant?" Harry shouted. "There's nothing wrong with him!"**

"Wait for it, she's about to strike," Sprout whispered, as the bar had gone very quiet.

Skeeter opened her bag and pulled out her quill.

"Oh no, you don't!" McGonagall said quietly and moved as if to get up, but Sprout held her back.

"Wait," Sprout suggested. "You don't need to be in the papers."

"**How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid **_**you**_** know, Harry? The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call him a father substitute?"**

"How _dare_ – " McGonagall began, but was cut short as Hermione rose abruptly to her feet.

"**You horrible woman," [Hermione] said, through gritted teeth, "you don't care, do you, anything for a story, and anyone will do, won't they? Even Ludo Bagman – "**

"**Sit down, you silly little girl, and don't talk about things you don't understand," said Rita Skeeter coldly.**

"You're one to talk," Sprout said quiet calmly, though she maintained an iron-clad grip on McGonagall, who was still itching to rise and force Skeeter away from her students.

"**I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl… **_**not**_** that it needs it – " [Skeeter] added, eyeing Hermione's bushy hair.**

"**Let's go," said Hermione, "c'mon, Harry – Ron…"**

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exited the bar as Skeeter began scribbling away furiously.

"Oh, my," Flitwick sighed. "I've got an awful feeling about Miss Skeeter's next article…"

"If she digs into that poor girl, so help me, I'll – "

McGonagall never finished her thought as Skeeter suddenly appeared at the table, quill poised.

"Well, if it isn't three of the most highly acclaimed Hogwarts professors!" she said with an unpleasant smile.

"Miss Skeeter," Flitwick greeted, pleasant as ever. "How are you?"

"Just fine and dandy, Professor Flitwick," Skeeter said. "Tell me, what's that Hermione Granger like?"

"No," McGonagall said flatly.

"I'm sorry?" Skeeter asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What Professor McGonagall _means_, Miss Skeeter, is that we don't want to be quoted in _The Prophet_," Flitwick said smoothly.

"Oh, well, no one would have to know! I'll just leave your names out, shall I?"

"You'll leave us out entirely," McGonagall snapped. "I speak quite confidently for the entirety of the staff when I tell you that we will not be quoted, referenced to, interviewed for, or at all mentioned in any of your upcoming articles."

Skeeter's lips tightened as she fixed her smile to her face."Then consider this just a friendly conversation."

Skeeter's acid green quill began writing of its own accord. McGonagall whipped out her wand and flicked it. The quill fell onto the table, completely lifeless.

"You have done enough damage to the Hogwarts staff already, Miss Skeeter," McGonagall said coolly. "Do not make the mistake of including us in any of your future articles."

"You certainly make your point clear, Professor," Skeeter said, dropping her false air of pleasantness.

"I think you'd do well to avoid writing about Hogwarts at all," Sprout spoke up. "You have, after all, been banned from the grounds."

"I wonder if your editor knows about that," McGonagall said thoughtfully. "They couldn't possibly still allow you to cover the Tournament if they knew you weren't allowed on the grounds to get interviews."

Skeeter threw her quill and roll of parchment into her bag and stood. "Very well," she said with a very much forced smile. "I'll leave you lot out."

"And remember that your job is to cover the _Tournament_, Miss Skeeter," McGonagall said, "not to – "

"I'm afraid you've already struck your bargain, Professor McGonagall," Skeeter said, and then strutted out of the bar.

"That went well," Flitwick said after a moment of tense silence.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

****OMG! I STILL EXIST! -whoah- Well, you might as well know. I'm in college now and taking a boat load of credits. Ergo, writing and updating has slipped further down my list of priorities. Sorry, friends, school first! I'll keep on with this story, just at an even slower pace than before. -sad face-

Despite my altered priorities that, I'm sure, do not please you, leave a review!


	68. Chapter 68

_**SIXTY-EIGHT – Rita Skeeter's Scoop, The Egg and the Eye, The Second Task**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Moody**

* * *

><p><span>I think you'll all be pleased to know Hagrid will be returning to work on Monday.<span>

Marvelous! I've missed him out on the grounds!

_How on earth did you convince him, Albus?_

I'm not sure I did. A certain trio of students that nearly broke down Hagrid's door most definitely helped him to see some sense, though.

I wonder who THAT could have been… Minerva.

_Yes, look at me suspiciously because three of my students helped convince Hagrid to come back to work. What a horrible House I have._

I think you would have rather enjoyed the encounter, Minerva. You do still have issue with Miss Skeeter?

_Here all these years I've been thinking you intelligent, Albus…_

Then you'll be quite pleased to be informed that your students are strolling about calling her "that Skeeter cow" quite unabashedly. 

_HA! I knew I liked them for a reason._

Speaking of pride, you'd have been proud of Minerva earlier today, Albus! Miss Skeeter ran into us at The Three Broomsticks and, get this, Minerva DIDN'T CURSE HER!

Self control! Bravo, Minerva! Bravo!

_Terribly amusing, the whole lot of you._

_She did still pull out her wand and resort to some amount of blackmail, however._

_Thanks, Filius._

Truth! What a terrible thing it can be at times. I must ask, Minerva – 

_I paralyzed that ridiculous quill of hers and asked if her editor knew she'd been banned from Hogwarts grounds. Are you happy?_

Far from it. I don't care to think who the subject of Miss Skeeter's next article will be.

_It certainly won't be me. I made it very clear to her that she was to leave the staff of Hogwarts alone!_

Let's see how long THAT lasts…

* * *

><p><strong>Find out who was going through your cupboard yet, Snape?<strong>

_**Given Potter that egg back yet, Moody?**_

**Matter of fact, I have. **

_**After checking it rigorously for curses, I'm sure. **_

**Indeed I did. Someone could have stolen it with the intention of giving it back to Potter cursed.**

_**Well, if that's the case, we best start investigating the only people with access to Potter's possessions – other Gryffindors. Minerva!**_

_Severus, it is very early in the morning. What on earth makes you think it's alright to wake me up?_

_**It seems there's a thief in Gryffindor tower.**_

…_I don't have the patience for this. I'm going back to sleep!_

_**Oh, but this thief is aiming to harm Potter's chances at the Tournament.**_

_Then why are you waking me up instead of finding whoever it is to give them a medal? You want him to fail, do you not? Go away!_

_**I'm surprised you're not more concerned.**_

_I'm surprised you're still writing when I've made it quite clear that I'm not taking you seriously. If anyone in Gryffindor IS stealing Harry's things to harm his chances at the Tournament, the rest of the Gryffindor students will find the thief out faster and punish them more effectively than I could ever hope to do. So, no, I'm not concerned and will now go back to sleep._

_**Hmmm…**_

**Things get tricky when your friends don't help you out, don't they, Snape?**

**Oh, Minerva!**

_WHAT?!_

**You might want to keep an eye on that boy… he's been putting things together about You-Know-Who…**

_Marvelous. That's just what I needed to know, Alastor. Now why don't you tell me again after I've woken up of my own accord and am actually capable of a thought process? _

**You seem perfectly cap – **

_The next person to write to me in this Notebook will sincerely regret their decision. I'm going back to sleep and WILL NOT be woken up again!_

_**I must ask, Moody, how you know Potter's been putting two-and-two together? After all, the sun's not even up yet. How could you have spoken to him unless he was out of bed just recently?**_

**Woke him up to give him the egg back.**

_**Couldn't just have a house-elf deliver it?**_

**Wanted to make sure he knew it'd been taken. Quick to point fingers, aren't you, Snape?**

_**You're one to talk, Moody.**_

* * *

><p><em><span>I'll have you know, Minerva, that I have quite the head ache and have every intention of putting blame on you.<span>_

_Is that so? What have I done?_

_You've got Neville Longbottom in your House._

…_and is that some sort of crime?_

_I set the fourth years to start Banishing Charms today and Longbottom continually Banished me instead of his cushions. It was done on accident, true, but it doesn't change the fact that I hit my head a fair few times. _

Well, we all know Neville's a little clumsy. You should have just avoided walking in front of him.

_Of course YOU jump to his defense, Pomona. And I had to go by him to try to help him._

_It seems as though Pomona's got it from here. I'll just mosey on out of this conversation._

I don't really see what your complaining is going to accomplish here, Filius.

_Don't see… Are you telling me to stop complaining, Pomona?_

Brilliant of you to put that together so quickly.

_You've absolutely NO room to tell me not to complain!_

In this instance I do.

_You're impossible!_

**Aren't all women? Can't ever quite figure them out… that's how they end up getting away with everything.**

For once, Alastor, you make sense. However, we don't ALWAYS get away… occasionally someone manages to make sense of what we're saying and that just leads to trouble.

**Women always lead to trouble.**

_I regret ever saying anything. Back to class!_

**Shouldn't you be teaching now, Sprout?**

I am, Alastor.

**Teaching Herbology and writing in your Notebook at the same time… quite the impressive feat. How do you manage?**

If I told you I'd –

Rephrase!

I can't tell you, Alastor. It's a secret I've guarded closely since I first managed it.

**That so?**

No, it is not cause for your concern.

**I'm not so sure…**

Stay OUT of my green houses!

**No promises.**

* * *

><p>McGonagall sat in her office going over fourth year Transfiguration essays, and having a rather difficult job with it too. She had spent at least fifteen minutes on Goyle's paper and only just finished deciphering the first paragraph. <em>Why<em> boys had such difficulty writing things neatly, McGonagall was sure she would never understand.

Someone knocked at the door and the Transfiguration teacher sighed with relief at the excuse to take a break from decoding Goyle's hieroglyphics. She rose to answer the door.

"Potter," she said, more than a little surprised. "Go on and take a seat," she offered.

Harry entered the office and sat in the chair across McGonagall's desk as she closed the door and took her own seat.

"What's this about?" McGonagall asked, setting her hands on her desk and giving Harry her full attention.

Harry reached into his bag and pulled out a slip of paper. "I need your signature, Professor," he said.

McGonagall felt her stomach constrict. The last time Harry had asked for her signature it had been in a last-ditch effort to go to Hogsmeade with all his friends, and she had had to refuse him.

"I'd like to have a look through the Restricted Section in the library," Harry elaborated. The knot in McGonagall's stomach loosened.

"Why?" McGonagall asked as she took the paper. She made no move to grab a quill just yet.

"I'm trying to prepare for the Second Task, Professor. I thought that it wouldn't hurt my chances to have access to the whole of the library."

McGonagall's insides lurched unpleasantly again. She had not even given the Second Task a thought since the end of the First Task. Instead of showing the panic that was beginning to well inside her, McGonagall nonchalantly asked, "Worked out that egg, have you?"

"I think so," Harry said, and blanched slightly. "It doesn't sound like anything fun."

"Well, it is what you make it, Potter," McGonagall said as she put her signature down on paper for her student, not believing herself at all. By no means did she think anyone could make the Second Task "fun".

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said as she handed him the permission slip back. He stuffed it into his bag and headed for the door.

"Good luck, Potter," McGonagall said just before her office door closed. Harry either failed to hear or ignored the well wishing, for the door snapped shut and did not open again.

* * *

><p><strong>+++Weeks Later++++<strong>

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Moody**

* * *

><p>Well, time's certainly flown by!<p>

_Agreed._

_Flown by to what?_

…

Are you serious, Filius? Aren't you supposed to be –

_Don't do it, Pomona._

Why?

_Just don't. _

_The Second Task, Filius! It's in a week!_

Which reminds me – 

_NO!_

Really, now, you need to calm yourself.

_Absolutely not._

We need to cement into place who we'll be putting at the bottom of the lake.

_Oh, Merlin's beard… _

Pomona, for Mr. Diggory?

Cho Chang, I think. They're becoming rather inseparable…

Minerva, Mr. Potter?

_This sickens me, but… Weasley or Granger._

Has Karkaroff given you anyone for Krum yet, Albus?

No, he has not. He's not sure – 

Then Granger's Krum's. Weasley's Potter's.

You still think Miss Granger a valid choice for – 

Oh, yes. Yes I do.

_Fabulous. Nearly a quarter of my fourth years stuck in the black lake for an hour…_

We will now proceed to ignore you, Minerva.

Who've we got for Miss Delacour?

Madame Maxime is sending word to Miss Delacour's parents asking them for permission to use their younger daughter.

_That's awful! Isn't there – _

Minerva, really! No harm will come to any of them. I'm sure the younger Miss Delacour will be thrilled to miss a few days of school and to participate.

I thought we'd agreed to ignore Minerva?

_No, you just made a blanket, and entirely false, statement._

Thanks for that, Filius.

_Always happy to be of service, Pomona._

I think you'll be more at service if you leave this conversation.

_I think not._

**When are you going to snatch all the kids, Dumbledore?**

The night before the Task will do. Minerva, I think I'll have them all brought to your office, as that will seem much less suspicious than requesting they come to mine.

_I'll have no part in bewitching them, Dumbledore._

I've come to expect no less, Minerva. 

_I don't like this, Albus. I don't like this one bit._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

****Later than I would have liked... but oh well.

I really appreciate you all. You give me an excuse to ignore my ridiculous reading assignments for a while longer. Thank you!

...now as payment for that grand compliment, I demand you review.


	69. Chapter 69

_**SIXTY-NINE – The Second Task**_

Dumbledore entered McGonagall's office without knocking and without an invitation.

"Do I not always at least extend the courtesy of knocking, Albus?" McGonagall asked moodily.

"I confess I feared you wouldn't open the door if you knew it was me," Dumbledore admitted.

"You're right, I wouldn't have," McGonagall said, "and I forgot to lock it."

"It's time. The younger Miss Delacour will be here shortly. Filius is fetching Miss Chang. We need Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger."

McGonagall rubbed her face, then threw the stack of essays she had been working on into a drawer and left her office. Not long after she began heading for Gryffindor tower, the Weasley twins approached.

"Out and about at this hour, Professor?" asked Fred.

"We thought you'd be grading the wonderful essays we turned in to you yesterday," George said.

"If your essays are the 'wonderful' ones, I don't at all care to see the rest of your classmates'," McGonagall said smartly.

"That hurts, Professor," said Fred. He and his twin hung their heads in a mock pout.

"Where's your younger brother?" McGonagall asked, not at all falling for the twins' routine.

"Well my younger brother's right here," said Fred, gesturing to George.

"Only by a minute and a half," George argued.

"Oh!" Fred exclaimed, as though he had had an epiphany. "Do you mean Ron, Professor?"

"What clever conclusion, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said drily. "Yes, where is Ron?"

"Last we heard of him he was in the library with Harry and Hermione," George supplied.

"Pretty sure they've gone through half those books in the past week," Fred added.

McGonagall finally gave the twins a good look and noticed the book bags they had slung over their shoulders were empty. "Where are you going, boys?"

Fred and George exchanged a look. "Just out for a walk, Professor," Fred said smoothly.

McGonagall frowned. "Yes, well, make yourselves useful – "

"We're plenty useful!" George objected.

"Find your brother and Miss Granger and tell them I'd like to see them in my office immediately," McGonagall continued as though she had not been interrupted.

"What about Harry?" Fred asked.

The corners of McGonagall's mouth pulled down further. "Mr. Potter may go wherever he pleases in the castle so long as he is back in Gryffindor tower by curfew. Now shoo!"

Fred and George took off down the hall, casting glances over their shoulder at their professor as they went.

McGonagall reentered her office with full intention of further expressing her exasperation with Dumbledore, but he was already chatting away with Cho Chang while a little girl with blonde hair tried to melt into her chair. McGonagall became more enraged with the whole situation as she studied the small girl a moment longer, for it was not possible the girl was even of school age.

"Ah, Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore said cheerily and gave a smile. "Might I introduce you to Miss Gabrielle Delacour?"

McGonagall gave Dumbledore the meanest look she could muster before quickly rearranging her features as Cho and Gabrielle turned to look at her.

"You look very much like your sister," McGonagall observed, causing Gabrielle to smile slightly. "Tell me, Mademoiselle Delacour, how old are you?"

"I turn nine een two months," Gabrielle answered. Every word she spoke sounded like it took a great amount of effort; the poor girl was not at all used to speaking English.

"Eight, then," McGonagall said, and shot a quick look at Dumbledore. "Will you be going to Beauxbatons like your sister?"

"_Oui,"_ Gabrielle replied, smiling again. "I already 'ave some control over my mageeck."

"You do?" Cho said interestedly.

Gabrielle nodded proudly.

"Be careful about it, Miss Delacour," Dumbledore cautioned. "You don't want to go getting into trouble before you get going on school." He gave her half a wink and a smile, the latter of which she returned.

A knock sounded through the office and McGonagall opened the door to admit Ron and Hermione.

"What's going on, Professor?" Hermione asked confusedly, looking at Gabrielle and Cho.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore greeted. "Have a seat!" He drew his wand and conjured two more chairs, which Ron and Hermione sank into.

"Now," Dumbledore continued, "as you know, the Second Task is tomorrow. I'm assuming you three," he addressed his students, "already know what the task is."

Cho looked down at her hands, Ron's ears turned pink, and Hermione pursed her lips.

"There's no sense in leaving you out, Miss Delacour," Dumbledore said, turning toward Gabrielle. "We've got quite the impressive lake out on our grounds. It's inhabited by all sorts of creatures, including merpeople."

Gabrielle's eyes widened, from horror or interest, McGonagall could not tell.

"All four champions have been given a sort of puzzle that informed them the next task will be finding something of theirs of great value at the bottom of the lake."

"So why call us in instead of swiping something from each of the champions?" Ron asked.

"I already have swiped something from each of the champions, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said. "They're sitting before me."

"You're putting _us_ at the bottom of the lake?" Hermione gasped.

"That's the plan, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, and drew his wand. "With a little charm you'll simply fall asleep and wake up tomorrow after you've been brought out of the water. I give you every assurance – "

"Wake up _after_ the task tomorrow? Oh, no, Professor, please don't!" Hermione cried. "Ron and I – we've got to go back and be with Harry. He needs our help f – "

"Keeping calm," Ron loudly interrupted, giving Hermione a significant look.

McGonagall's stomach contorted into quite the impressive knot. Had Harry figured out how to survive the Task yet? What did he need Ron and Hermione's help for so badly that Ron didn't feel could be disclosed in front of the headmaster?

"We promised Harry we'd meet him back in the common room," Hermione continued on. "He's expecting us! If we don't come back – "

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore began.

"They're not the only ones, Professor," Cho said with her brows drawn together. "I promised Cedric I'd eat with him tomorrow morning! He'll have an absolute – "

"This is the sort of thing the champions have signed up for," Dumbledore said patiently.

"Harry didn't sign up for this, Professor," Hermione said rather rudely, considering she was addressing the headmaster.

"I cannot do zis!" Gabrielle burst. "I cannot do zis to Fleur!"'

"Be quite, the whole lot of you!" McGonagall snapped, finally stepping in, unable to hear the pleas any longer. "Absolutely no harm will come to you and each of the champions should already be prepared for this task! I'm certain they'll all be understanding of your absences!"

"Speaking of absences," Ron said, looking to his left and right, "where's Krum's?"

"Beside you, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said calmly.

Ron looked first at Gabrielle, but instantly deduced she was not Krum's, then looked over at Hermione, who had turned a deep shade of scarlet and cast her face downward.

"You're still – " Ron began angrily.

"If you say anything about the Yule Ball, Ronald," Hermione said dangerously, "I _will_ curse you!"

"Are we ready?" Dumbledore asked as though nothing had happened.

"Let's just get it over with," Ron said sulkily and crossed his arms.

"You'll wake up, completely unharmed, tomorrow after the Task," Dumbledore reassured, and then began waving his wand.

McGonagall finally walked around to the front of her office and looked at the four children as they each succumbed to Dumbledore's enchantment, the wide-eyed Gabrielle falling asleep last.

"I'll never understand how you live with yourself, Albus," McGonagall said disgustedly.

"I do find it rather difficult at times," Dumbledore admitted. "Now, it's well past curfew. The merchieftainess awaits us!"

"You do realize how suspicious this will look to anyone that doesn't know what's going on?" McGonagall asked, flicking her wand at Ron. He rose into the air, completely and totally limp. McGonagall's lip twitched.

"No sane person would think the headmaster and his deputy had killed off four children, Minerva," Dumbledore said amusedly.

"They might if they knew how crazy you are," McGonagall commented, raising Gabrielle into the air, as well.

"You've got more the temper of a murderer than I," Dumbledore said conversationally.

"Test my temper further and I might just _become_ a murderer."

"To the lake!" Dumbledore exclaimed, Hermione and Cho floating before him.

* * *

><p><strong>+++Next Day+++<strong>

"The Task starts in ten minutes," Bagman informed McGonagall, who was already in a right state, barely resisting gnawing her nails. "Where's Harry?"

"If I knew, Ludo, he'd be here!" McGonagall snapped.

"He wasn't in the common room, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked.

"No! No one's seen him since last night!"

"Maybe whoever put his name in the Goblet's tired of waiting for – " Moody began.

"Oh, don't, Alastor!" McGonagall cried and rubbed her forehead. "You're not exactly helping matters. Why don't you put that damn eye of yours to good use and go look for him in the castle?"

"Thought you'd searched the castle already," Moody said.

"A second search wouldn't hurt!"

"There's not enough time for a second search," Dumbledore stated. "If Harry does not make it, then the judges will discuss where to go from there."

"The boy's got to be somewhere," Bagman reasoned.

"Not necessarily," said Snape, joining the group. "Mr. Potter has a habit sneaking off grounds. Perhaps – "

"Now is a good time for you to pause and think before you speak, Severus," McGonagall growled.

"We're being summoned, Dumbledore," Bagman said, pointing to Percy Weasley, who was subbing for an ill Mr. Crouch and frantically gesturing for the rest of the judges to come to the table. "That boy's been around Barty too long. Doesn't know how to take a joke. Just the other – "

"He's always been that way, Ludo," McGonagall said. "Now get over there!"

Bagman and Dumbledore walked off, leaving McGonagall, Moody, and Snape behind.

"If Potter's not shown up by the time the other champions have gone in, I'll go look for him," Moody offered.

"Where could he _be?_" McGonagall asked, scanning the shore of the lake.

"Hogsmeade," Snape answered, "looking for the next train out."

"Don't you dare call that boy a coward, Severus!" McGonagall snarled.

"Here he comes," said Moody, gesturing to a boy halfway across the grounds, black hair thrown back as he sprinted toward the lake.

McGonagall sighed in relief.

"Now all he has to do is get in and out of the lake within an hour," Snape said cruelly, looking at McGonagall.

McGonagall wisely chose to walk away and sit with Flitwick and Sprout.

"Where in the world was he?" Sprout asked as McGonagall sat down.

"I've got no clue, and I think I prefer it that way," McGonagall answered, then straightened her hat and resolutely faced the champions lined along the lake.

"**Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle," **Bagman's voice boomed across the grounds. **"They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One…two…**_**three**_**!"**

Three of the four champions promptly dove into the lake on Bagman's cue, but Harry began ripping off his shoes and socks.

"Good Lord, boy, you don't have time for this," McGonagall sighed and put her forehead into her hand.

"What's he just eaten?" Sprout asked interestedly.

"If we're lucky, something poisoned," Snape said, joining his colleagues.

"You're sure Harry knows what he's doing, Minerva?" Sprout asked apprehensively as Harry slowly waded into the water.

McGonagall looked at Sprout unamusedly. "I think the only time Potter actually knows what he's doing is when he's on the Quidditch pitch."

"Even then – " Snape began.

"Shut up! We've beaten your team every match since he came," McGonagall snapped. "Your argument is invalid!"

Laughter began to ring out. McGonagall looked back at the lake to see Harry standing waist deep in water, unmoving.

"Perhaps Potter will consider transferring after this," Snape suggested as his house began catcalling.

"Gillyweed!" Flitwick exclaimed as Harry suddenly threw his hands over his neck and then himself into the water. "He's got gillyweed! This ought to be rather simple for him, now, I think."

"Just where did he get gillyweed from, I wonder?" Snape asked suspiciously.

"Who cares?" McGonagall asked, smiling quickly. "The question at this point is, who do you think is the fastest swimmer?"

"The question remains on how Mr. Potter got his hands on gillyweed. He wouldn't exactly be able to simply grab a bit from the greenhouses," Snape said.

"Course not," Sprout said. "I actually lock my things up properly. Evidently, you don't, as this is not the first time your stocks have been invaded by someone less than half your age. Now, if you please, stop dist –"

"Distracting you?" Snape asked. "From what? You can't see any of the champions, Pomona."

Sprout remained silent for a moment, then turned to ask Professor Sinistra if she had seen what any of the champions had used.

"This task's entertainment value was not thought all the way through," Flitwick commented after nearly three quarters of an hour of watching nothing but the still surface of the lake.

"This entire tournament was not thought all the way through," McGonagall said unhappily.

"Oh no," Sprout said, pointing to a merperson that had just stuck its head out of the lake. It engaged in conversation with Dumbledore, who looked most serious, and then disappeared back into the water after a nod from the headmaster.

"Who do you think it is?" asked Sprout nervously.

"Fleur," Flitwick said, nodding his head towards the judges' table as Dumbledore approached Madame Maxime.

Quite suddenly, Fleur's head popped out of the water. She gasped for breath and had several cuts on her face. At Maxime's urgent gestures, she swam to shore.

"Grindylows, I bet," McGonagall said.

"Poor girl," said Flitwick. "Grindylows hurt!"

"Not as much as the emotional shock of finding out she left her sister at the bottom of the lake will," McGonagall said dully as Maxime began speaking to Fleur with the most soothing face the woman could muster.

Fleur's eyes suddenly widened drastically and she made to dive back into the water, but Maxime easily grabbed her and hauled the screaming girl away from the shore.

"Oh," Sprout said sympathetically. "When will they tell her that her sister will be alright, Minerva?"

"I don't know," McGonagall replied unhappily.

"Poppy's got her now. I'm sure she'll be given a calming draught," Flitwick said confidently.

"Ah! Cedric!" Sprout exclaimed a while later, pointing at the water.

Cedric had emerged with Cho at his side, smiling. The pair swam to shore where Madame Pomfrey shoved towels at them both.

McGonagall looked at her pocket watch. They were already outside the time limit of the event. Harry couldn't have much time left with the Gillyweed. She began to fidget as she anxiously watched the surface of the lake for any sign of Harry.

"He'll show, Minerva," Sprout said calmingly. "He always does everything last minute. Why should this be any different?"

"Soon a minute is all he'll have left," McGonagall said. "How long do the effects of Gillyweed last?"

"About an hour," Sprout said.

McGonagall glanced at her pocket watch again. Sprout snatched the watch with an aggravated sigh.

"Give it back, Pomona," McGonagall demanded dangerously.

"Absolutely not, Minerva."

"Someone's coming up," Flitwick announced.

McGonagall forgot all about her stolen watch and glued her eyes back on the lake. Hermione popped up, followed by Krum, whose jaw was still shrinking from a half transformation.

"Potter's Gillyweed hour's up," Snape said after Krum and Hermione had reached shore.

"Damn it, Severus!" Sprout bit out as McGonagall gasped in horror. "_Why _did you have to make that announcement?"

"She might as well brace herself for the worst," Snape said unsympathetically.

"No, no, no," McGonagall said, sounding quite unlike herself. "Dumbledore's got some sort of backup plan…. I'm sure he does…"

Despite her claim, McGonagall continued to fidget and glance wildly between the lake and the discussing judges as five minutes went by…ten minutes… thirteen minutes…. When the surface of the lake finally broke McGonagall actually laughed with relief, then her smile flipped.

"I don't believe it," she said.

"Don't believe what, Minerva? He's back, and look, he's perfectly fine!" Sprout said.

"You _idiot_ child!" McGonagall exclaimed, though no one but her fellow teachers could hear. "He stayed and waited for the other champions! That's why he's got Gabrielle!"

"Silly Gryffindor," Snape said with a sneer.

McGonagall, on an impulse, threw her fist at Snape's shoulder. "Oh, do I hope Weasley and Granger give him hell for his stupidity!"

Sprout and Flitwick exchanged a bemused look before Sprout rolled her eyes and patted McGonagall's knee. "Let it go, Minerva."

"Honestly! As if, after all the precautions that have been taken, the judges, Albus among them, would let an innocent bystander die! Pah!" McGonagall ranted.

"I'm out of ideas," Sprout proclaimed. "Have you got anything, Filius?"

"We could throw _her_ into the lake," Flitwick suggested nonchalantly.

"You've been talking with Pomona for too long, Filius," McGonagall responded almost automatically. "She's rubbing off on you."

"What, because I suggested throwing you into the lake? Am I not allowed to make my own threats every now and then?" Flitwick asked.

"Merlin's beard, Ludo! Say something already," McGonagall droned, rubbing her forehead.

"It's a good thing the judges are discussing, Minerva," said Flitwick. "That means Harry might not be disqualified!"

"If he's disqualified does he have to compete in the third task?" McGonagall asked dully.

Sprout rolled her eyes again as Flitwick sighed.

"**Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision," **boomed Ludo Bagman's voice suddenly. **"Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows…."**

"_I_ could tell you what happened at the bottom of the lake, Bagman," said Snape shrewdly.

"Shut up, Severus!" McGonagall snapped.

"**Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points." **

"Not too bad, all things considered," Flitwick commented. "I wonder just how close she got to the hostages?"

"Why do we even have grindylows in the lake? Stupid creatures," McGonagall muttered.

"If they hadn't prevented Fleur from getting Gabrielle herself, you'd be perfectly fine with them, Minerva," Sprout said exasperatedly.

"And grindylows are vital to the lake's ecosystem," Flitwick added. "They're an important part of the food chain and without them – "

"You _really_ need to lay off the Muggle science books, Filius," Sprout stated, causing Flitwick's cheeks to change color slightly.

"There's nothing wrong with them, Pomona," Flitwick said in his defense.

Sprout had been about to make a smart comment, but Bagman calling out her student's name stole all her attention.

"**Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour. We therefore award him forty-seven points."**

"Ha ha!" Sprout said triumphantly. "There's a good lad, Cedric!"

McGonagall applauded with the rest of the staff, though she glared daggers at Harry while doing so, inwardly yelling at him.

"**Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."**

"Igor must be upset that his student lost by so many points to Hogwarts," McGonagall commented snidely, looking sideways at Snape.

"That's very likely," Snape conceded.

"**Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued. "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."**

"Silly Gryffindor," said Snape again.

"I ought to curse you, Severus," McGonagall replied.

"**Most of the judges," and here, Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, "feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However…Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."**

"I don't believe it," McGonagall said numbly. "_Forty-five points?_ What? How did that happen?"

"Would have been fifty, if not for Igor. Perhaps I owe him something after all," Sprout suggested sarcastically. "Let Cedric win this round."

"Harry and Cedric are tied for first, Pomona," Flitwick said after some quick mental math. "How about that?" he asked, beaming. "Both Hogwarts champions in the lead!"

"**The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," continued Bagman. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions."**

"Three full months free of worry," Sprout said, then took a deep breath. "Oh, how good it feels!"

McGonagall leaned back in her seat and flexed her fingers several times. They ached after having been clenched into fists for well over half an hour.

"Hufflepuff and Gryffindor are sure to celebrate their victories," Flitwick said. "I suggest we do the same!"

"Celebration it is, then!" Sprout agreed.

"Take care not to break out the fire crackers this time, Filius," McGonagall suggested. "I don't think we can handle Alastor having another melt down."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

"About time! Jeez, Alittleinsane, where have you been?" I'm an honors student in college. I've got stuff to do! =P Much though I may not like it, I have to read stuff written by people like Darwin and Burke rather than like J.K.R. And I have to write things like midterm papers rather than things like stories. =/ For those who haven't yet, don't grow up! It's a trap!

Sufficient explanation given. Now cough up a review, darn it! ... ... please? =P


	70. Chapter 70

_**SEVENTY – Padfoot Returns**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Moody**

* * *

><p>Minerva, you haven't, perchance, seen any copies of "Witch Weekly" lying around, have you?<p>

_No… Why do you ask?_

Oh, no reason in particular. I just thought it'd be a good idea for me to burn any of them before you got your hands on a copy.

_I've no interest in the latest trend in earrings, Pomona._

_**But you do have interest in your Gryffindors.**_

Curses upon you, Snape. A whole slew of curses upon you.

_**You brought it up, Pomona.**_

_Would someone care to share before I steal the copy of said magazine Miss Chang is currently reading under her desk and thinks I can't see?_

No, I'd really care not to share. But, Albus, Skeeter's been on the grounds again…

Has she?

_Skeeter? RITA Skeeter?_

_**The one and only. **_

_NO! She published something on Hermione, didn't she? That COW! I'll get her, I promise you!_

Minerva, no!

_Chang's about to lose her magazine and there's nothing you can do about it, Pomona!_

Albus… she's going to throw a major fit…

I might throw one myself. I've expressly forbid Miss Skeeter from Hogwarts grounds. Pomona, would you be so kind as to find me a copy of "Witch Weekly" so I might try to find out how she keeps getting into here?

I'll get you a copy, but I don't think it'll do you any good, Albus.

* * *

><p>"Miss Chang," McGonagall called across her class of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Cho's head snapped up from her desk. "Would you care to explain to me why you are not copying the notes I've put onto the board?"<p>

Cho's cheeks reddened slightly. "Reading, Professor," she replied.

"Bring it here," McGonagall ordered.

Cho looked slightly panicked and glanced over at her friend, who shrugged. Appearing rather apprehensive, Cho rose from her seat and handed her magazine over to her professor.

McGonagall took the magazine and held it with such force the pages began to crumple, then told Cho to go back to her seat. Once certain all her students were doing as they had been told, McGonagall quickly and quietly flitted through _Witch Weekly_ until she found the article Sprout had so dreaded her seeing.

"Professor," said a rather daring Hufflepuff after the third time McGonagall had read through Skeeter's article, "can we go now?"

McGonagall made to pull out her pocket watch, but realized she had never gotten it back from Sprout after the Second Task. "Yes, go," she said, eager to have her classroom to herself.

It appeared that Cho had warned her classmates that their professor would be in a foul mood, for every last student leapt out of their chairs and bounded through the door as soon as they were given permission.

"You_ horrid _woman," McGonagall hissed, then rolled the magazine up, shoved it in her pocket, and headed for Dumbledore's office.

"Break is only ten minutes, Minerva," said Dumbledore conversationally as his deputy burst into his office. "Do we really have time for this now?" he asked, looking at her over his own copy of _Witch Weekly_.

"This is _unacceptable!_" McGonagall tried not to screech, pulling the magazine out of her pocket and slamming it down onto Dumbledore's desk.

"I quite agree," Dumbledore said. "I've been mulling over this atrocity for the past half hour, but I simply cannot think of how Miss Skeeter is getting onto the grounds."

"Ask Parkinson," McGonagall snarled. "She was quoted in that atrocity."

"I will not be dragging students any further into this mess, Minerva."

"Parkinson's on Skeeter's good side, Albus. Asking her a few questions certainly couldn't – "

"Minerva…"

"Oh, _Albus,_ all the things that are going to be said about poor Hermione!" McGonagall moaned, falling into a chair. "She won't ever hear the end of it! And poor Harry and Viktor, as well! I'm sure neither of them want the kind of attention they'll get from this!"

"Minerva, Hermione and Viktor have been close enough to Miss Skeeter that they must have seen her," Dumbledore said.

"What?" McGonagall asked sharply, snapped from her woes.

" '**Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays,'"** Dumbledore read from the article, "** 'and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."'"**

McGonagall opened and closed her mouth several times. "She's flat out _spying_ on our students, _minors!_ One of them is, at least! There's got to be some legal issue here we can pursue, Albus!"

"Do we really need any more publicity, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, but it's worth a try! I've still got some friends in the Ministry that I can contact and they can start – "

"Who will believe you, Minerva?" Dumbledore queried. "This article has, by now, circulated all over the Ministry. It's got Harry, Viktor, and the Tournament in it. It'll be a hot topic. It's already been absorbed into everyone's conscience as truth. Our best bet is to figure out how on earth this woman keeps getting onto these grounds."

"Next article she publishes on Hogwarts, I'm going after her, Albus. Mark my words," McGonagall vowed.

"You're going to be late for your next class if you don't hurry, Minerva," Dumbledore said casually, and returned is attention to the article before him.

McGonagall heaved herself up and made to grab her own copy of _Witch Weekly_, but Dumbledore quickly swiped the magazine away.

"I think you've read enough of Miss Skeeter's work for the day, Minerva," said the headmaster without looking away from his reading.

McGonagall huffed before sweeping out of the office.

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Moody**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Minerva – <strong>_

_If you are about to say anything about that awful article, Severus…_

_**Delightful as I found that article, no. Someone's been breaking into my private stores again.**_

_Perhaps you should increase the security measures you have on said stores._

_**That is not the issue here.**_

_Go on, then. Accuse Potter._

_**He's brewing Polyjuice again!**_

_Oh how you make me laugh, Severus._

_**Have I, or have I not, been correct in my past predictions?**_

_Why would he be brewing Polyjuice, Severus?_

_**Likely to get someone else to do the Triwizard tasks for him.**_

_You're too predictable, Severus, really. I can say with complete and utter confidence that it is, in fact, Harry performing in the tasks. Only he would show up moments before the start of an event, and only he would be foolish enough to think there was any true danger facing the hostages from the second task. Now, rather than continue to bother me with your ridiculous theories, why don't you go throw a few more protective spells on your stores?_

_**One day, Minerva! One bloody day!**_

* * *

><p>"I don't understand why you're so upset, Severus. We both knew this would come," Dumbledore said, pouring over various papers and books while Snape paced his office.<p>

"The Mark is so _clear_ now," said Snape frustratedly. "The more concerned Karkaroff gets, the more excited everyone else must become."

"Just how concerned is he?" Dumbledore asked, still looking down at the plethora of information before him.

"Concerned enough to wait over an hour for my class to end to speak to me," Snape growled.

"How long has he been so bothered?"

"I don't know," Snape bit out.

"Perhaps you'd have a better idea if you were not so actively avoiding him," Dumbledore suggested.

In an instant, Snape stood directly in front of Dumbledore, his palms slammed on the desk. "I am already doing enough, Dumbledore. I do not warrant such a comment," he said through tight lips.

"On the contrary, Severus," Dumbledore said, still failing to look Snape in the eye. "Your work has barely begun. If the simple task of tracking Karkaroff's reactions is causing you this much distress, I fear how you will react when you have greater deeds to perform."

"Perhaps I will not do those greater deeds," Snape said dangerously.

"Long ago, Severus, you made a promise," Dumbledore said firmly, at last making eye contact, "and I intend on holding you to it."

Snape shoved his weight off Dumbledore's desk and stomped, flat footed, out of the office, slamming the door behind himself.

* * *

><p><strong>++DAYS LATER++<strong>

Albus, is Barty Crouch doing alright?

From all that I've heard he's simply not feeling well.

It seems a bit strange… he's so addicted to work! I can't imagine he'd stay out of the office as long as he has, sick or not…

_I think without Winky to take care of him anymore he just can't recover like he used to. Besides, he's not getting any younger. I wouldn't be surprised if he announced he was retiring after the Tournament._

I suppose… but I still think it's strange.

…_._

…

_Alright now, Albus, what's REALLY going on with Barty?_

You just explained it marvelously.

_I don't believe one word of what I wrote and you know it. Barty could have dragon pox and he'd still be at work every day! Something's got to be really, really wrong with him, Albus!_

As you are so insistent, I will consent to agree.

_So you think something fishy is going on as well?_

If I hadn't before, the conversation I had with our friend in Hogsmeade would have changed my mind.

_You just saw him a few days ago!_

I wasn't the only one to visit him today. Harry, Ron, and Hermione went and saw him while they were out in Hogsmeade.

_If he keeps on the path he's going, he'll get himself chucked right back into Az – _

Back to Barty, our friend believes Mr. Crouch's problems began at the World Cup.

_How so?_

Unbeknownst to us, Barty had Winky hold a seat for him, then never showed up. Seems strange he bothered to bring Winky in the first place, really.

_Then it seems to me that you'd better have another talk with Winky!_

I have tried. Much to my great disappointment, Winky remains firmly against revealing anything about the Crouch family.

_If this carries on much longer, though, Albus…_

I shall become more insistent with the elf when I see fit, Minerva, and not before.

_Infuriating old man…_

* * *

><p><em><em>**Author's Note**

****Hi. I realize it's been a long time, and I'm sorry. I'm now updating as I write, and I _do not _have time to write. I am taking 19 credit hours at college and I'm an honors student. Yelling at me will not change that, despite the thinking of some recent reviewers. If you continue to yell, I will begin blocking, which I do not want to do, so please restrain yourself.

Now, on a more pleasant note, I'm happy to present this update to you! I hope you enjoy it and I apologize it took so long! Hopefully, with fall and winter break coming, I'll manage to find some time to sit down and write! -cross fingers-

I'm anxious to know what you think about this chapter. Hit review to let me know!


	71. Chapter 71

_**SEVENTY-ONE – The Madness of Mr. Crouch**_

"Filius, try this scone," Sprout demanded of the Charms professor sat beside her at breakfast.

Flitwick looked at the scone on Sprout's plate warily. "Why?" he asked.

"It just doesn't taste like it usually does."

"So, theoretically, that scone is poisoned and you're just trying to get me sick, as well?" Flitwick queried.

Sprout rolled her eyes at Flitwick before turning to McGonagall. "Minerva, taste this scone and tell me I'm not crazy."

"I don't need to taste that scone to inform you that you _are_ crazy," McGonagall said distractedly, reading the latest _Daily Prophet_.

"Some great friends you are," Sprout said sulkily. She suddenly perked up as she surveyed the students. "What the devil is going on at the Gryffindor table?"

McGonagall's head snapped up from her paper and her eyes quickly focused on a group of owls harassing Hermione Granger. "Skeeter," she said through her teeth.

"I expected there to be _more_ owls," Flitwick commented.

"Just wait, I'm sure they're coming!" Sprout replied.

McGonagall turned her head to glare viciously at Dumbledore. "Did I or did I not tell you?"

"I never doubted you, Minerva," Dumbledore calmly replied.

"You've got to do something! Speak to her editors or – "

"You know as well as I that as long as Miss Skeeter brings in readers, her editors will be very much unwilling to discharge her."

"Albus, this is _serious!_"

"I'm well aware, Minerva," Dumbledore said with a hint of anger. The slight adjustment in his tone checked his deputy's temper.

McGonagall took several deep breaths before speaking again. "This has now turned into a matter of safety, Albus," she said with forced calm. "It won't be long before someone sends Hermione something harmful."

"That harm has already come," Sprout interjected. "Looks like bubotuber pus from here!"

McGonagall's gaze snapped onto Hermione, who was desperately trying to wipe something off her hands. She made to get up to assist her student, but more words from the headmaster stopped her.

"I wouldn't recommend drawing anymore attention to the situation, Minerva," said Dumbledore. "Between Mr. Weasley's experience and Miss Granger's book knowledge, I'm sure they'll figure out quite quickly that she needs to go see Poppy."

As Dumbledore finished his thought, Hermione popped up from Gryffindor table and hurried out of the Great Hall.

"Albus – "

"Much though you may not like to hear it, Minerva, Miss Skeeter is among the least of our concerns at present," Dumbledore said, more firmly than before.

"Oh, no you don't, Potter!" Sprout said to herself suddenly.

McGonagall looked over to see Sprout pop out of her chair and rush over to Gryffindor table to stop Harry from picking up the envelope containing the bubotuber pus. Confident in Sprout's ability to control the situation, McGonagall turned back to face Dumbledore, but his seat was empty.

"Infuriating old man," she muttered to herself.

* * *

><p><strong>+++FEW DAYS LATER+++<strong>

"You're sure no one has any idea what story she's working on now?" McGonagall asked Sprout dully, sat with her fist supporting her head in the herbologist's office.

"Minerva, when I find out what Skeeter's up to, you'll know," Sprout said exasperatedly. "Honestly, I don't see why you're worrying so much. Granger seems to be managing the mail and the howlers just fine, and Weasley and Potter haven't abandoned her, nor have any other of her house mates. By the time she leaves Hogwarts for break the whole thing will have blown over."

"Perhaps the article concerning Hermione will blow over, but what about the next piece of rubbish that awful woman publishes?"

Sprout sighed. "Minerva, I tell you this because I care. _Stop worrying so much._ Whatever comes will come and we'll make due. There's no sense stressing yourself out about it currently. Now, if you don't get out of here so I can grade these essays, I'm going to throw this Herbology guide right at your face." Sprout held up quite the impressive book, complete with reinforcements at the spine.

"No need," McGonagall sighed, heaving herself up. "I'd better go check on Albus. He's not been acting like himself the past few weeks."

"Noticed, have you?" Sprout said testily.

McGonagall nearly snapped back smartly, but suddenly let out a chuckle, instead. "Do you know what Filius would say if he were here at the moment?"

Sprout looked unamusedly at McGonagall. "Really, Minerva. I'd gone nearly six hours without even hearing his name and now you're forcing me to recall one of his often used pacifist sayings?"

McGonagall shrugged. "It seemed appropriate."

"Oh, go find Alastor and make sure he hasn't jinxed anyone!" Sprout retorted.

McGonagall's face collapsed. "That's not funny, Pomona."

"Go check on Albus."

McGonagall finally left Sprout's office and dragged her feet up to the headmaster's, not at all looking forward to her visit. Dumbledore remained his usual self with most everyone, but had let himself slip multiple times with McGonagall in the past week, though McGonagall recognized such slips to be her fault. She knew Dumbledore had a great deal on his mind, yet she continued to push him on the issue of Skeeter.

"Cockroach Cluster," McGonagall said clearly to the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Her stomach churned at the very idea of the disgusting candy. Nonetheless, she ascended the stairs and knocked to no response. She politely waited well over a minute, then slowly opened the door.

"Albus?" she inquired as she stuck her head in. She was greeted by the sight of Dumbledore's penseive on his desk and several newspaper clippings strewn about the office floor. "Oh, Albus!" she said to herself, swooping down to begin picking up the papers.

After a few more minutes, the headmaster emerged from his penseive.

"Ah, Minerva," he greeted. "I hope you haven't been waiting long."

"I've been waiting long enough to see that you've been reading and annotating Muggle newspapers," McGonagall commented.

"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore unabashedly. "Research."

"Involving Muggle news?" McGonagall asked skeptically.

Dumbledore strode over to his deputy, took the newspaper clippings from her, and sifted through them until finally choosing one and handing it back. "Read," he requested.

McGonagall sighed, then sat down and scanned the article. "Frank Bryce?" she said once finished. "What's the importance of Frank Bryce?"

"By himself, I would imagine that Mr. Bryce was once of great importance to some person or another. To us, it is not who he is, but where he is from and how he came to be in the paper," Dumbledore said.

"It says here he disappeared from Little – " McGonagall's jaw suddenly dropped. "The Riddle family!" she exclaimed.

"Exactly," Dumbledore said. "And it was only a short amount of time before Mr. Bryce vanished that Bertha Jorkins disappeared."

"You think they're connected," McGonagall said, thoroughly unenthused by the idea.

"I think it'd be quite the coincidence otherwise, as Bertha was last known to have been in Albania," Dumbledore said heavily, "but enough of that!" he said, suddenly brightening. "You've come for a reason. What is it?"

"We've already been discussing it," McGonagall said. She took a deep breath before continuing, "I've been unkind to you, Albus. You've got a whole load of things to deal with and I've been more of an added stress than an aid to a solution."

Dumbledore smiled. "Your concern for my wellbeing is truly appreciated, Minerva," he said. "Rest assured that I am in perfectly good health but, as you have said, have quite a lot on my plate."

"What can I help with?" McGonagall asked.

"I think you're dealing with enough as it is, presently."

McGonagall crossed her arms. "Albus…"

"You can help me by going to bed and so you can teach transfiguration to the students of Hogwarts and our guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to be best of your considerable abilities," Dumbledore said. "Good night!"

With furrowed brows, McGonagall bid Dumbledore good night and had just opened the door to leave when Dumbledore stopped her.

"Do remember to tell Harry he's to meet Ludo at – "

"The Quidditch field at nine tomorrow," McGonagall finished, her nostrils suddenly flaring. "Albus, promise me something."

"I promise to hear the promise you wish me to make, but I can make no promises on whether or not I will honor the promise you request," Dumbledore said in reply, his lips twitching upward ever so slightly.

McGonagall's lips thinned slightly. "Promise me you won't bring back this tournament ever again."

Eyes twinkling with delight at the prospect of annoying his deputy, Dumbledore made his reply. "I can give no such promise, Minerva. Hogwarts won't have the opportunity to host the Tournament for another fifteen years. If you wish the Tournament to not occur in five years, you'll have to speak to the head of the next school. According to tradition, that would be Igor."

"Well know that if, by that time, I am headmistress, Hogwarts will not be in attendance!" McGongall snapped.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Dumbledore came back with, still with a glint in his eyes. "Perhaps, once you've taken over Hogwarts, you'll become just as crazy as I have."

McGonagall's lips became so taunt at Dumbledore's reply they appeared to have all but disappeared. "I firmly believe that, even with years of training, no one could come _close_ to the level of insanity at which you sit!"

Dumbledore studied his deputy, then grabbed a quill and scribbled quickly on a bit of parchment before him. "According to my calculations, in just over three years, you'll not only be on my level, but may actually – "

"Good _night_, Albus!" McGonagall snapped, then slammed Dumbledore's door shut and very nearly ran into Moody, who was just outside. "Alastor!"

"Can't let you enemy into your head like that, Minerva," Moody said, his magic eye twirling around crazily. "You let him keep the upper hand."

"_You_ try winning an argument with him, Alastor!" McGonagall snarled. "What are you doing up here anyway?"

"Could ask you the same question," Moody said smartly.

"_I, _Alastor, and deputy headmistress, and as such I must frequently communicate with – I asked you first!"

Moody's face contorted into a smile. "You're easy to fluster, Minerva," he said as he walked around her. "Might want to work on that."

McGonagall stomped her foot purely to relieve some of the tension she felt, then hurried back to her office before anyone else could try to annoy her.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

To my fellow Americans, Happy Thanksgiving! To non-Americans, Happy Thursday! It's almost the end of the week!

I've finished writing Goblet of Fire (SQUEE!), but that only gives us to seventy-five. *sigh* Slowly but surely, my friends. Surely, but slowly. The fifth book is my favorite, so maybe I'll be more motivated to work on it during WINTER break (after those pesky finals). Keep your fingers crossed!

Leave a review, and whether you're from the U.S. or not, be sure to take a couple of minutes to think about thinks you're thankful for today!


	72. Chapter 72

_**SEVENTY-TWO – The Third Task**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Moody**

* * *

><p><span>Are things all set for our champions tomorrow?<span>

The Diggorys will definitely be here.

Excellent. Severus, what has Igor said?

_**The Krums are already in Hogsmeade.**_

Filius, have you spoken with Madame Maxime?

_Fleur's family will be apparating to Hogsmeade tomorrow morning and walking from there._

Oh, heavens! Tell me someone's coming for Harry, Minerva!

_Yes, someone is._

Wonderful! …Do we finally get to see these dastardly Muggles?

_No._

You said someone was coming for Harry!

_Yes. And I meant it. But the idea that Vernon and Petunia would step foot on Hogwarts grounds willingly is utterly hilarious. I don't think Harry would be particularly pleased to see them, either. Molly Weasley's agreed to come for Harry._

Molly Weasley! She's such a sweetheart! Does Harry know?

_I most sincerely doubt it._

What a surprise!

_Who's greeting our guests, Albus?_

As you will have to get Harry… Filius, would you mind?

_I'd be delighted!_

**I'll accompany you, Flitwick.**

_No, no! That's quite alright, Alastor! I think I can manage!_

**Never know what the Krums might be bringing.**

_Alastor!_

**What?**

I have full confidence in our guests, Alastor, and believe Filius to be more than capable of handling a situation, on the very off chance that one arises.

**All the same, Dumbledore – **

_Albus, didn't you say you wanted someone keeping an eye on the maze?_

Indeed I did, Minerva! Alastor, would you be willing?

**Done. I'll keep any scum away from there trying to get a sneak peak.**

Just remember that your wand is a last resort, Alastor. It'd be quite embarrassing if someone were to be cursed or hexed unnecessarily. 

**Yeah, yeah.**

I'm not sure that idea was the most brilliant you'd ever had, Minerva…

_Hey, it'll keep him away from the castle for a bit._

_More importantly, away from our guests!_

No need to be uncharitable. 

Right. Let's just look at the positive side… he'll be gone in less than a month.

_What a delightful idea!_

I think it's high time to say good night!

_Good night, Albus!_

Minerva, have I told you about the –

Good night, Pomona.

I wasn't aware I had a bedtime.

_It's best we wait to talk about Moody until he's gone, Pomona. He'll probably see or hear us and barge in otherwise._

Fair point. Very well! Good night!

* * *

><p>McGonagall sat down for breakfast at the staff table beside Sprout. "Good morning, Pomona."<p>

Sprout quickly folded the paper she'd been looking at and stuffed it under her chair. "Morning, Minerva. When did you get here?"

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, believing Sprout to be handling herself oddly. "Just now."

Sprout's shoulders loosened somewhat. "Oh, good." Before her behavior could be questioned, she shoved a basket of turnovers into McGonagall's hand. "Apple this morning. Very good!"

McGonagall, still looking strangely at Sprout, took a turn over. When Sprout turned away, McGonagall leaned closer to Professor Burbage on her other side. "Did Pomona do something to these turnovers?"

Burbage smiled. "Of course not, Minerva. She's just been reading the paper. Are you nervous for the Task today?"

"Not nearly as nervous as the champions must be," McGonagall said, her stomach twisting at the thought of the task. "I feel as though this task is a bit more controlled than the others."

Burbage considered. "Help is certainly more available. Who all is patrolling the perimeter of the maze?"

"Myself, Alastor – "

Suddenly, Draco Malfoy's voice rang across the hall. **"Hey, Potter! **_**Potter! **_**How's your head? You feeling alright? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?"** In his hand he brandished a copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

Abandoning Burbage, McGonagall slowly turned to Sprout. "Pomona…"

"Rubbish, Minerva," Sprout said, buttering a piece of toast. "Not worth reading."

"Give me the paper, Pomona."

"No."

"You know I'll have my own copy on my desk by now."

"Good. Read it in the safety of your office."

McGonagall reached down, ripped the paper out from underneath Sprout's chair, and turned to the front page. "Didn't want me reading more of Skeeter's work, did you, Pomona?" McGonagall said after reading the title of the article:

**HARRY POTTER**

"**DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS"**

"I don't want anyone reading her work," Sprout responded.

McGonagall read through the entire slanderous article, then back to one sentence that disturbed her most. **"On Monday last, midway through a Diviniation lesson, your **_**Daily Prophet**_** reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying."** She read the sentence over and over, becoming more and more concerned.

"Pomona, switch me places."

"Minerva?" Sprout asked.

"I need to talk to Albus. Switch me!"

Sprout rose, grabbed her plate, and swapped places with McGonagall.

"Albus," McGonagall said upon seating herself.

"I have read the article on Harry, Minerva," Dumbledore said before a question was even asked.

"Don't get your wand in a knot," McGonagall bit out. "Angry as I am that Skeeter published another article, I'm a bit more concerned about the fact that she's been on the grounds, in the castle, even. How did she get in here? And how did she _see_ Harry leaving Divination? She's got to be stalking him, Albus. No one's out by the North Tower by chance."

"I've been wondering the same thing," Dumbledore admitted.

"If she's still able to get through our security, Albus, that means that – "

"Anyone might have found the same loophole and gotten in here after Barty, or, for that matter, to plant Harry's name in the Goblet back at the beginning of the year," Dumbledore finished. "Disturbing indeed."

"How do you want to proceed?" McGonagall asked.

"I've sent a letter asking to speak to Miss Skeeter as well as her editor to attempt to strike some sort of deal with her," Dumbledore said. "I'm waiting for a response."

"You don't think you'll get it, do you?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I will wait until the day after tomorrow, then I will go up to Cornelius. This is now a matter of school safety."

"Can you think of any way she might have gotten in here?"

"A select few," Dumbledore said, "though I've taken caution to prevent those few from being used. She's found either a new way in, or a loophole."

"I can only think of the secret passageways. That, or she took a leaf out of Sirius's book and is an illegal animagus. I wouldn't put it past her," McGonagall said.

"Argus has been very carefully watching the passageways, as has Alastor," Dumbledore said.

"Oh, how I'd like to catch her for being an animagus," McGonagall said darkly.

"Keep an eye out," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps you will. She'd have to be fairly small, however."

"She won't admit it to you if you meet her," McGonagall pointed out.

"Likely not, but perhaps I'll be able to figure out some clues," Dumbledore said optimistically.

"Logically, then, we must consider the possibility that the person behind Barty and Harry is an animagus, as well," McGonagall said.

"Agreed."

"What if we got a couple of half-kneazles? I'm sure Arabella Figg would be willing to part with some of hers, if only temporarily."

"I'll have to argue that with Argus first," Dumbledore said, "but it might not be a bad idea."

McGonagall sighed, her nerves soothed somewhat. "Well, I'd better go tell Harry to get moving," she said, rising.

"A good idea," said Dumbledore in agreement.

McGonagall walked along the Gryffindor table until spotting Harry. **"Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast."**

"**But the task's not till tonight!" **Harry burst, managing to dump scrambled eggs down his front in a moment of panic.

"**I'm aware of that, Potter," **McGonagall answered. Though amused she did not show it. **"The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them."**

McGonagall walked away before Harry could ask her questions, afraid she might ruin the surprise. She managed to hold off her smile at the expression on Harry's face until out of the hall.

* * *

><p>"Well it's nice to see Bill again," Flitwick said at lunch, glancing at Bill and Mrs. Weasley, seated with the rest of the Weasley children and Harry at Gryffindor table. "I must say he looks quite a bit more wild than I remember, though."<p>

"I'm sure Molly would love to cut his hair and rip out his earrings," Sprout said with a chuckle. "There's always got to be one in a family."

"And who was it in yours, Pomona?" Flitwick asked.

"I was the one that always came to dinner with dirty hands, Filius, not the one doing strange things with my hair and – "

"Your hair's strange enough without you doing anything to it," McGonagall said, seating herself.

Sprout wrinkled her nose at McGonagall. "Have I done anything recently to offend you?"

"No. I simply can't resist the opportunity," McGonagall said irritatingly.

Rather than respond to McGonagall, Sprout looked around her to Dumbledore. "Who's subbing as judge for Barty, Albus?"

"Cornelius," Dumbledore said, then took a bite of potato.

"Because we'd all _love_ to see him at the moment," McGonagall said unhappily.

"Minerva…"

"I'll be civil, Albus," McGonagall assured, "but that doesn't mean I'm happy about the situation. The fact that he hasn't been taking anything seriously – "

"A conversation for another time, Minerva."

"Oh, fine," McGonagall huffed, then returned to her food.

* * *

><p>Dinner came and went. McGonagall walked out toward the Quidditch pitch with Hagrid, Flitwick, and Moody, a ridiculous hat with a bright red star in her hand.<p>

"Are you sure you don't want to be in the stands, Minerva? I'm sure Charity or Septima would step in for you," Flitwick offered.

"I need to be doing something, Filius, thank you," McGonagall said, her nerves beginning to itch. She'd managed to keep herself under control the past several days, but now, facing the maze her students would soon be entering, her stomach began to act up.

"Ah, no need to be nervous," Moody growled.

"No need ter be nervous?" Hagrid asked. "Got all sorts o' strange things in there, Mad-Eye! What if one o' the champions gets trapped by sommat and can' signal us in time?"

McGonagall jammed her hat onto her head and purposely blocked out the rest of Hagrid and Moody's conversation as her stomach churned more and more. Finally, she and her patrolling companions stood in front of the four champions.

"**We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," **she informed the champions. **"If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"** she asked, looking at each of the champions in turn. All four nodded, and then Bagman dismissed the patrollers.

McGonagall took her spot, then turned and looked for the familiar face of Sprout. Upon finding the herbology professor, the two witches exchanged significant looks, each trying to calm and assure the other without words. McGonagall finally turned back around as Bagman's voice boomed out.

"**Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand!" **Bagman shouted across the grounds, his voice magically magnified. **"Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each – Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts school!"**

Deafening shouts and applause sounded as the students of Hogwarts cheered their champions. McGonagall glanced back at Sprout again, but Sprout was watching Cedric intently.

"**In second place," **continued Bagman, **"with eighty points – Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute! And in third place – Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"**

McGonagall looked around the corner of the maze at Hagrid, who, like Sprout, was watching the champions. His hands were in loose fists, which he swung back and forth. McGonagall looked around the other corner to see Moody. He seemed perfectly calm, surveying not only the champions, but the entire pitch.

"**So… on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!"** Bagman called. **"Three – two – one – "**

McGonagall witnessed Harry and Cedric dash into the maze after Bagman's whistle. After two minutes, Krum was signaled to enter. Another two minutes passed before Fleur was allowed in. Once all the champions had entered, the four patrollers began pacing around the maze.

Although she had not been instructed to, McGonagall kept her wand in her hand. As time waned on, she began to feel more and more strongly that something strange had to happen, and sooner than she would like.

Suddenly, McGonagall heard a faint scream from the maze, unmistakably Fleur. Immediately, she cast her eyes up to the sky, but saw no red sparks. She was close enough to the judges' table that she was able to look concernedly at Dumbledore, who shook his head very slightly, so as not to be noticed.

Unease growing, McGonagall looked at the sky once more, then forced herself to continue on her paces. Every ten seconds, at least, McGonagall glanced up, hoping to see red sparks. Hagrid had been right before; there was a very real possibility that a champion might be attacked and unable to signal for help.

McGonagall had made it around the perimeter of the maze eight more times before she heard more shouts. Whether they were Krum's, Cedric's or Harry's, she could not determine, but she knew that without sparks, she could not enter the maze, and so she forced herself to continue on.

Suddenly, McGonagall's unsaid prayers were answered and red sparks flew into the sky. Moody, however, was closest. McGonagall knew he would have already entered the maze by now. All she could do was continue to walk and hope that Moody would bring out someone that was still alive.

As McGonagall rounded the corner to the judges' side of the maze, she saw an unconscious Krum on the ground being looked over by Pomfrey. Had it been Krum that shouted?

McGonagall had made several more rounds of the maze when she saw green sparks fly from the judges' table. She hurried over, along with Moody, Flitwick, and Hagrid.

"Someone has reached the Cup," Dumbledore said, addressing the patrollers. "Once they show up here, which should be any moment, you will go into the maze and find the remaining champions."

The four patrollers nodded, then waited in silence. McGonagall hardly heard any of the students cheering, nor did she hear Karkaroff's raging and demands for a new task.

A minute went by.

Two minutes.

Five minutes.

McGonagall looked all around. Dumbledore had made the Cup a portkey back to the entrance of the maze. Portkeys did not take five minutes, especially for a distance so small. She looked back at Dumbledore, who seemed to have sensed something strange. He turned to the other judges and they all began discussing.

Another five minutes slid past before Dumbledore turned back to the patrollers. "Find them," he said simply.

McGonagall did not need telling twice. Without so much as glancing at her fellows, she ran full-speed into the maze and began weaving through its challenges. When confronted with one of Hagrid's massive Blast-Ended Skrewts, McGonagall cast a spell that forced the earth to make a ramp. The Skrewt charged the ramp and, as it went over it, exposed its vulnerable underside. With a well-aimed spell, McGonagall stunned the creature and carried on.

Several spells and creatures later, McGonagall finally approached the Sphinx. "Well?" she asked. "Who's passed you?"

The Sphinx smiled, which caused McGonagall to frown deeply.

"Alright, let's have the riddle, and quickly, please!" McGonagall said resignedly.

"Considering your hurry, I suppose I'll be merciful and give an easy one," the Sphinx said.

"How very kind of you," McGonagall said as politely as she could manage.

"_While it isn't very hairy – "_ the Sphinx began, but McGonagall cut her off.

"Potter!" McGonagall blurted. "Harry Potter!"

The Sphinx nodded, then stepped aside. McGonagall sprinted past it, straight to where the Cup should have been.

It was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

****Well, eff. Heading south real fast.

I hope you all are enjoying the holidays, particularly if you're on break, like myself. =D I will make a point of updating right around Christmas. Until then, enjoy your time off and your kinfolk and family.

Leave a review!


	73. Chapter 73

_**SEVENTY-THREE – The Third Task; Flesh, Blood, and Bone; The Death Eaters; Priori Incantatem; Veritaserum; The Parting of Ways**_

"Are you sure?" Fudge asked McGonagall for the third time.

"Yes, Cornelius! I have eyes, do I not? That Cup is _gone!_" McGonagall tried not to shout. "Someone's meddled with it or there'd be _someone_ standing over here with it!"

"Dumbledore, you set it for the entrance of the maze, did you not?" Fudge asked.

"I did," Dumbledore said.

"But there's no one there, now is – "

"Of course there isn't, you idiot!" McGonagall burst.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said. "I think you need to step away."

Casting one more angry look at Fudge, McGonagall turned on her heel and headed for Pomfrey to see if she had found out why Krum had yet to awaken.

Just as McGonagall was about to ask Pomfrey a question, Hagrid came out of the maze carrying Fleur, Flitwick hurrying along behind him.

"Foun' her stuck in Devil's Snare," Hagrid told Pomfrey.

"Are her lips _blue?_" McGonagall asked.

Flitwick nodded. "I'm honestly surprised she's still alive, it had such a hold on her! She must have been unconscious when it got to her. If she'd struggled…"

"You didn't find Harry or Cedric?" McGonagall asked as Pomfrey set to work.

Hagrid and Flitwick both shook their heads. Shortly after, Moody came out empty handed.

The four patrollers joined the judges' table.

"You're trying to tell me that your champions grabbed the cup at the same time?" Karkaroff asked Dumbledore.

"There's no other possible explanation, Igor," Dumbledore said.

"Oh, yes there is!" Karkaroff argued. "They could have broken a deal! One of them goes after my champion, the other after Madame Maxime's. Then one turned on the other!"

"You are determined to make yourself a victim, Igor," Dumbledore said. McGonagall noticed his eyes were not twinkling.

Karkaroff seemed about to respond, but his eyes suddenly widened and he hurried away.

"Dumbledore!" said a panicked voice.

McGonagall turned around to see Snape pelting across the pitch, straight toward Dumbledore. Snape's right hand was clutched tightly around his left forearm.

"Severus?" Dumbledore said, his eyes swirling with concern.

"It's done," Snape said simply.

There was a brief moment of silence as the Hogwarts staff members froze in horror.

"What's done?" Fudge asked.

"You'll find out soon enough, Cornelius," Dumbledore said in a very mellow voice. "Filius, please bring Pomona here."

Flitwick dashed off as fast as his short legs allowed.

"Albus," McGonagall whispered to Dumbledore.

"I've no idea, Minerva," Dumbledore said in reply to an unasked question.

McGonagall pursed her lips and nodded. As she turned to look at the maze again, Flitwick returned with Sprout, who looked as worried as McGonagall had ever seen.

The sight of the judges and staff on the pitch was quite a disturbing one.

Dumbledore stood watching the maze intently, waiting for something to happen. No trace of a twinkle remained in his eyes, nor a trace of a smile on his face.

Snape paced furiously, refusing to speak or look at anyone.

Flitwick was doing his best to try to comfort McGonagall and Sprout, neither of which had strength left to stand. The pair of witches sat on the box that had been intended for the third place champion to stand on. McGonagall had her nails in her mouth and Sprout had an unbreakable grip on her hat.

Fudge did his own pacing. Every few minutes he would try to ask Dumbledore a question, but Dumbledore continually bade him quiet to continue staring at the maze.

Madame Maxime, along with Mr., Mrs., and Gabrielle Delacour, sat beside a now snoozing Fleur.

Moody limped about, looking all around. He twitched at every rustle of leaves from the maze.

Karkaroff was nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, Harry and Cedric appeared. The former lay face down, the latter face up. Neither moved.

McGonagall and Sprout rocketed from their seats and began hurrying over.

Dumbledore seized Harry and flipped him right side up and it was only then that McGonagall saw that her student was clutching Cedric, whose chest neither rose nor fell. She froze, as did Sprout beside her.

"It can't be," Sprout said weakly. "No! No, it can't be!"

Harry suddenly reached out and clasped tightly to Dumbledore's wrist, and McGonagall knew – knew the world would never be the same.

People began to shout out about Cedric's death. Dumbledore pried Harry's hand from Cedric's robes and hauled him to his feet.

Amos Diggory whizzed past McGonagall and Sprout, then fell, sobbing, onto his son's body. Mrs. Diggory stood absolutely frozen in the stands. Flitwick headed toward the stands to guide her to her family.

McGonagall registered noises beside her and looked at Sprout. The woman had tears running down her face, despite her efforts to stop them.

"Pomona," McGonagall tried to say softly, though it came out hoarsely. "Pomona, come on, now." And McGonagall gently grabbed Sprout's arm and guided her over to the gruesome scene as Moody passed them with Harry going the opposite direction.

As McGonagall looked down at Cedric's lifeless body, his father crying next to him, and felt Sprout's weight leaning on her for support, she tried very hard not to cry. Her lips twitched violently with the effort. She had no right to cry in front of Sprout, and certainly not in front of the Diggorys.

"Pomona," Dumbledore said gently, approaching the pair of witches. "We have to move the body."

Sprout nodded. "I'll take the Diggorys to my office," she offered. She took several deep breaths, then approached Cedric's parents.

Snape stepped next to McGonagall and looked at the scene before him with a profound frown.

"Where is Alastor?" Dumbledore asked sharply, quite contrasting the gentle manner he had used with Sprout.

"He took Harry back up toward the castle, I think," McGonagall said.

Dumbledore's eyes flared with uncharacteristic anger. "You're sure?"

"Positive," McGonagall replied. "He passed Pomona and me."

"Then that was not Alastor," Dumbledore spat, his face falling to absolute fury. "Come!"

Immediately, McGonagall and Snape took off with Dumbledore, leaving everything behind them.

"How can you be sure, Albus?" McGonagall asked.

"I specifically said I wanted Harry to stay by me," Dumbledore replied. "The real Alastor would have understood why and left him."

"If it's not Moody we've been dealing with, then who is it?" asked Snape.

"We'll find out one way or another," Dumbledore said with a scary note in his voice. "Wands."

McGonagall and Snape both whipped their wands out as Dumbledore opened the doors to the castle and pelted towards Moody's office.

As the group of teachers approached, they were able to easily hear Moody's voice shout out.

"**Mad, am I? We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Nord has returned, with me at his side! He is back, Harry Potter, you did not conquer him – and now – I conquer you!"**

"_**Stupefy!"**_Dumbledore cried, blasting the door off of Moody's office. Moody, who had been thrown back by the blast, lay face down. Dumbledore carelessly kicked the unconscious man face up.

McGonagall took one look at her pale, frightened, bleeding student and made a beeline for him. **"Come along, Potter," she whispered.** She found her mouth was twitching again as she held back tears once more at the sight of Harry's face. **"Come along… hospital wing…"**

"**No," said Dumbledore sharply.**

"**Dumbledore," **McGonagall weakly argued, **"he ought to – look at him – he's been through enough tonight – "**

"**He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand," said Dumbledore curtly. "Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. He needs to know who has put him though the ordeal he has suffered tonight, and why."**

McGonagall could not argue with Dumbledore's reasoning, and so instead of taking Harry, began to look at him more intently. She took note of the fact that his leg and arm were both bleeding slowly from large cuts. Angry red lines went across his neck and arms, as though someone had scratched the boy, or tied him. McGonagall's visual examination was cut short by Dumbledore's voice.

"**Minerva, kindly go down to Hagrid's house, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Take the dog up to my office, tell him I will be with him shortly, then come back here."**

McGonagall registered Snape had already been sent off before turning herself and walking away, feeling as though her legs were made of lead.

Her feet made their way to Hagrid's hut without any conscious effort and she opened the door without knocking, continuing through the house and exiting the back door leading to the pumpkin patch.

A large black dog leapt up from the ground and bounded to her side, looking up at her expectantly. It's tail soon stopped wagging, it stopped panting, and cocked its head to the side.

"Sirius?" she asked.

The dog barked.

"Come on," McGonagall said, and then led the way from Hagrid's and back to the castle.

The dog barked again.

"Shut up," McGonagall said dully. "You don't need to draw any attention to yourself."

The dog suddenly cut in front of McGonagall and sat in her path, barking insistently.

McGonagall reached out and grabbed the dog's muzzle, holding it tightly. "Harry's alive, if that's what you're wondering. Now shut your mouth, and don't open it again!" She released the dog and resumed the journey to the headmaster's office. After passing the gargoyle, she opened the office door and let the dog in.

"Dumbledore will be up in a few minutes," McGonagall said, then she shut the door and returned to Moody's office. Approaching the office, she saw Snape with Winky at his heels, but said nothing to him.

"**Crouch!" Snape said, stopping dead in the doorway. "Barty Crouch!"**

"**Good heavens," **McGonagall heard herself let out as she too stopped in her tracks.

Sure enough, Barty Crouch Jr. lay on the floor in Moody's clothes, still unconscious from Dumbledore's spell.

"**Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?"** asked the tiny voice of Winky. The elf suddenly ran forward and flung herself onto Crouch's chest. **"You is killed him!" **the elf shrieked. **"You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!"**

"**He is simply Stunned, Winky," said Dumbledore. "Step aside, please. Severus, you have the potion?"**

Snape handed Veritaserum over to Dumbledore, who then heaved Crouch into a sitting position, forced his mouth open, and let three drops of Veritaserum fall before waking the villain.

"**Can you hear me?" Dumbledore asked quietly** after Crouch had awaken.

"**Yes," **Crouch muttered.

McGonagall's skin began to crawl upon hearing the voice that, to her, had been dead over a decade.

"**I would like you to tell us," said Dumbledore softly, "how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?"**

"**My mother saved me. She knew she was dying,"** Crouch began in a dead pan voice.** "She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draught of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my mother's hairs. She took a draught of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my hairs. We took on each other's appearance."**

McGonagall heard Winky squealing, but made no effort to attempt to understand the creature.

"**The dementors are blind,"** Crouch continued. **"They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors.  
><strong>

"**My mother died a short while afterward in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me."**

"**And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?" said Dumbledore quietly. **

"**Staged my mother's death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The house-elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed. I had to be controlled. My father had to use a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my master . . . of returning to his service." **

"**How did your father subdue you?" said Dumbledore. **

"**The Imperius Curse," Crouch said. "I was under my father's control. I was forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the house-elf. She was my keeper and caretaker. She pitied me. She persuaded my father to give me occasional treats. Rewards for my good behavior." **

At this, McGonagall set her weight on the nearest surface. For all these years, the upright figure of Barty Crouch had been using the Imperius on his criminal son that he had taken out of Azkaban? The information seemed unbelievable, yet there was the younger Crouch, very much alive and well.

The elf interjected again, but was ignored once more.

"**Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?" said Dumbledore softly. "Did anyone know except your father and the house-elf?"**

"**Yes," said Crouch. "A witch in my father's office. Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house with papers for my father's signature. He was not at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to the kitchen, to me. But Bertha Jorkins heard Winky talking to me. She came to investigate. She heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father arrived home. She confronted him. He put a very powerful Memory Charm on her to make her forget what she'd found out. Too powerful. He said it damaged her memory permanently."**

Again, McGonagall was astounded. Barty Crouch had the whole world fooled. The good he had done for society was undeniable, but what he had done to shield his reputation was undeniably horrible.

"**Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup," said Dumbledore **after another fit from Winky**.**

"**Winky talked my father into it," said Crouch, still in the same monotonous voice. "She spent months persuading him. I had not left the house for years. I had loved Quidditch. Let him go, she said. He will be in his Invisibility Cloak. He can watch. Let him smell fresh air for once. She said my mother would have wanted it. She told my father that my mother had died to give me freedom. She had not saved me for a life of imprisonment. He agreed in the end."**

McGonagall finally looked at the weeping elf, wondering how she could have done such a terrible thing, both by her code and the humans'. It was not accepted amongst elves to attempt to persuade their masters into doing things, and it was not accepted around humans to let dangerous wizards out of confinement.

"**It was carefully planned," **Crouch carried on."**My father led me and Winky up to the Top Box early in the day. Winky was to say that she was saving a seat for my father. I was to sit there, invisible. When everyone had left the box, we would emerge. Winky would appear to be alone. Nobody would ever know.**

"**But Winky didn't know that I was growing stronger. I was starting to fight my father's Imperius Curse. There were times when I was almost myself again. There were brief periods when I seemed outside his control. It happened, there, in the Top Box. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in public, in the middle of the match, and I saw, in front of me, a wand sticking out of a boy's pocket. I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I stole it. Winky didn't know. Winky is frightened of heights. She had her face hidden."**

As the elf cried out again, McGonagall thought back to the day she had found out about the attack at the Quidditch Cup, about Harry's wand being used to conjure the Dark Mark in the sky.

"**So you took the wand," said Dumbledore, "and what did you do with it?"**

McGonagall listened with horror as Crouch told how he had awaken at the shouts of the Death Eaters at the Cup campsite, how Winky had bound him to her, how he had cast the Dark Mark, how they had been Stunned, and then how Crouch had found his son, put him back under the Imperius and brought him home.

"**My master came for me,"** said Crouch with a crazy grin, beginning a new chapter in his tale.

McGonagall physically cringed. How any human being could voluntarily enslave themselves was a complete mystery to her, and one that made her sick and fearful for the future. She had seen several times before what blind following could accomplish.

"**He arrived at our house late one night in the arms of his servant Wormtail,"** Crouch continued still.** "My master had found out that I was still alive. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master knew that I was still his faithful servant — perhaps the most faithful of all. My master conceived a plan, based upon the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door."**

Crouch's face lit up and his hatred for his father became undeniably clear.

"**It was very quick. My father was placed under the Imperius Curse by my master. Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. My master forced him to go about his business as usual, to act as though nothing was wrong. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years."**

"**And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?" said Dumbledore.**

"**He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the Cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. But first —"**

"**You needed Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore. **

McGonagall felt her last meal rising in her throat, but forced it back down to its proper place. All year – the entire year – she and the rest of her coworkers had been fooled. All year Harry had been under the guidance of a criminal mad man, had even been alone with him several times.

McGonagall very nearly wretched again as she thought of just how easily Harry could have been killed on any given day of the school year.

"**Wormtail and I did it," **said Crouch gleefully in response to Dumbledore. **"We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand. We journeyed to his house. Moody put up a struggle. There was a commotion. We managed to subdue him just in time. Forced him into a compartment of his own magical trunk. Took some of his hair and added it to the potion. I drank it; I became Moody's double. I took his leg and his eye. I was ready to face Arthur Weasley when he arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance. I made the dustbins move around the yard. I told Arthur Weasley I had heard intruders in my yard, who had set off the dustbins. Then I packed up Moody's clothes and Dark Detectors, put them in the trunk with Moody, and set off for Hogwarts. I kept him alive, under the Imperius Curse. I wanted to be able to question him. To find out about his past, learn his habits, so that I could fool even Dumbledore. I also needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The other ingredients were easy. I stole boomslang skin from the dungeons. When the Potions master found me in his office, I said I was under orders to search it."**

"**And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?" said Dumbledore.**

"**Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep watch over my father."**

McGonagall felt as though her very soul were burning with fury. Pettigrew was alive and well. Pettigrew, the coward that had turned two of his best friends over to death and who ruined the lives of his other two friends, was alive and had been in the area all year long. He had not been struggling for existence, as McGonagall had rather hoped, but living a relatively easy life in the well furnished house of the Crouch family.

Crouch went on to talk of how his father had escaped his own home and made out for Hogwarts to confess to Dumbledore.

"**My master sent me word of my father's escape. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I** **waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter. The map that had almost ruined everything."**

"**Map?" said Dumbledore quickly. "What map is this?"**

"**Potter's map of Hogwarts. Potter saw me on it. Potter saw me stealing more ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion from Snape's office one night. He thought I was my father. We have the same first name. I took the map from Potter that night. I told him my father hated Dark wizards. Potter believed my father was after Snape."**

McGonagall looked at Snape, who had gone absolutely rigid with rage. He had been right after all. Someone had been stealing from his stores and making Polyjuice. She began to wonder how things might have turned out differently if she, or anyone, had taken him seriously.

"**For a week I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts," **Crouch carried on.** "At last, one evening, the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibility Cloak and went down to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. Then Potter came, and Krum. I waited. I could not hurt Potter; my master needed him. Potter ran to get Dumbledore. I Stunned Krum. I killed my father."**

"**You killed your father," Dumbledore said, in the same soft voice,** ignoring yet another outburst from Winky**. "What did you do with the body?"**

Crouch explained how he had turned his father's entire body into a bone and buried it outside Hagrid's cabin. McGonagall knew, despite any wrongdoings of Mr. Crouch's, the man did not deserve that kind of burial, and so resolved to later go find the bone, untransfigure it, and assure for Mr. Crouch a proper burial next to his wife, whose body would also have to be retrieved from its improper place of rest.

Silence reigned for a moment before Crouch gave his final confession.

"**I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner," whispered Barty Crouch. "Turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards."**

Crouch's head drooped onto his shoulder after giving one more insane grin.

Dumbledore rose from where he had sat for Crouch's questioning, then bound the despicable man with a look of disgust upon his face.

"**Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry upstairs?"** Dumbledore asked.

"**Of course,"** McGonagall immediately replied. Though she would have liked nothing better than to go to her room, curl up, and convince herself she had been having a terrible nightmare, she drew her wand and pointed it steadily at Crouch.

"**Severus, please tell Madam Pomfrey to come down here; we need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing. Then go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him up to this office. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in half an hour's time if he needs me."**

As Dumbledore finished, McGonagall heard Snape's cloak swish across the floor, signaling his departure.

"**Harry?" Dumbledore said gently.**

McGonagall, out of the corner of her eye, saw Harry rise and sway. Dumbledore steadied the student and the pair left McGonagall alone to stare at Crouch with a kind of fury she was not sure she had ever felt before.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

****Nice depressing chapter to kill your Christmas cheer... yay? :P

Hope whatever holiday you celebrate was fantastic!

Talk to you all in 2013! Leave a late present for me in the form of a review. ;)


	74. Chapter 74

_**SEVENTY-FOUR – The Parting of Ways**_

Nearly fifteen minutes after Snape left the room, Madam Pomfrey entered it.

"Good Lord," Pomfrey said lowly. "This is a mess, isn't it? Where's Alastor, Minerva?"

"In the chest," McGonagall answered without taking her eyes off Crouch.

Pomfrey peered down into the chest to see Moody's crumpled, pitiful figure at the bottom of it. "Oh, and to think I've been cursing your name all year," she said sadly before lowering herself into the trunk.

She conjured a stretcher, then carefully magicked Moody onto it, for she knew she'd be unable to move him by her own efforts. With that done, she clambered back out of the chest and carefully levitated the stretcher out.

"Do you want me to have someone come relieve or assist you, Minerva?" Pomfrey asked gently.

"No thank you, Poppy," McGonagall replied, still not taking her eyes of the unmoving Crouch.

Pomfrey frowned slightly, but left all the same.

* * *

><p>"Minerva," said a voice at the door some time after Pomfrey left.<p>

McGonagall turned to look at Snape, who beckoned her out into the hall. She heeded the summons and was faced with Fudge, who had had the audacity to bring a dementor with him.

"Get that _thing_ off the grounds," McGonagall immediately spat out.

"As Minister of Magic, Minerva – "

"Professor Dumbledore would not allow this," McGonagall insisted. "He'd be furious!"

"This is a highly dangerous wizard, and as such – "

"You think we don't know he's dangerous?" Snape hissed. "We've heard his confession."

Fudge opened his mouth to reply, but McGonagall cut him off before he could begin.

"Crouch is unconscious, wandless, and bound. There is no need for that atrocity to be here and – "

"As Minister of Magic I hold the right to bring a guard with me when I deem it necessary!" Fudge barked. "Now open the door! Let's see this resurrected Crouch Junior!"

Nostrils flared, lips tightened, McGonagall ripped open the office door and entered, followed by Snape.

Before McGonagall could turn to tell Fudge to leave the dementor in the hall, before she could even think, the dementor swooped down onto Crouch with a lowered hood.

The sight of the dementor's kiss was so vile, so horrifying, that McGonagall turned and finally emptied the contents of her stomach onto the office floor. When she turned back around, the dementor had finished and had returned to stand guard behind Fudge.

Fury etched in her face, McGonagall glared daggers at the Minister of Magic. She roughly wiped her mouth with her sleeve before advancing on him.

"Get it off the grounds,"Snape said in the most dangerous voice McGonagall had ever heard him use.

McGonagall briefly thought of conjuring a patronus herself, but could summon no other emotion than pure rage, no other memory than that of the dementor latching on to Barty Crouch Jr.

"Now!" she shouted instead when Fudge made no move.

Fudge started, then dismissed the dementor.

"Are you out of your bloody mind?!" McGonagall shrieked. "Did I not tell you – "

"It would have happened anyway!" Fudge argued. "Where's Dumbledore?"

"Oh, I'll take you to Dumbledore!" McGonagall growled. She shoved Fudge out of the office and snapped the door shut behind herself and Snape. Guarding Crouch was no longer necessary. Regardless, she locked the door for safe measure. "You've just _destroyed_ what very well could have been our best defense in our new situation!" she continued to rage as she, Snape, and Fudge quickly wound through the halls.

"I did nothing of the sort!" Fudge argued. "I protected myself and everyone in this school by – "

"You brought a guard you cannot control," Snape hissed. "Did I not tell you the situation was under control, that no guard was needed?"

"I will decide for myself whether or not a situation warrants a guard! And I could control my guard, thank you very much!"

"Oh," McGonagall said with mock shock, "is that why that infernal creature _sucked the soul_ out of Barty Crouch Jr. without a command? Without a trial? _Is that we we've lost our key evidence and main link to the – "_ McGonagall's voice, though raising rapidly in volume, was cut off by Fudge.

"**Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva – "**

McGonagall returned the favor and cut Fudge off once more, **"You should never have brought it into the castle! When Dumbledore finds out – "**

Fudge threw open the doors to the hospital wing before McGonagall could finish her threat. He looked around briefly, saw Mrs. Weasley, and headed straight to her, despite the fact that she was surrounded by her children and Hermione at Harry's bedside.

"**Where's Dumbledore?"** he demanded.

"**He's not here," said Mrs. Weasley angrily**, clearly unappreciative of the way in which she was being spoken to. **"This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to – "**

Dumbledore entered the ward and quickly approached the cluster of people.

"**What has happened?" said Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to Professor McGonagall. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you – I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch – "**

McGonagall refused to be chastised for what was not her fault. Her hands crunched into fists, she interrupted, **"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!" she shrieked. "The Minister has seen to that!"**

McGonagall could not bear to even look over in Fudge's direction, nor could she unclasp her hand to point an accusatory finger. She felt herself shake with inexpressible rage.

"**When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," said Snape, in a low voice, "he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch – "**

McGonagall was unable to maintain the filter between her brain and her mouth. She interrupted again. **"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore! I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but – "**

"**My dear woman!" roared Fudge, "as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous – "**

McGonagall filled her lungs and shouted more loudly than she had ever done in her life, **"The moment that – that thing entered the room," **she finally managed to uncurl a first to point a finger shaking with anger at Fudge, **"it swooped down on Crouch and – and – " **McGonagall's mind drew a blank. She could not come up with a description for what she had seen.

"**By all accounts, he is no loss!" blustered Fudge. "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!"**

"**But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," said Dumbledore. He was staring hard at Fudge, as though seeing him plainly for the first time. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."**

"**Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?"** Fudge continued to bluster. **"He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus has told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"**

McGonagall so desperately wanted to scream, but her jaw had locked into place from gritting her teeth so hard.

"**Lord Voldemort **_**was**_** giving him instructions, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."**

Fudge stood stupidly blinking in shock, looking blankly at Dumbledore. Much to the displeasure of everyone else present in the room, he opened his mouth again. **"You-Know-Who… returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore…"**

McGonagall's mind went into overdrive as she recognized Fudge would not believe them. He would lead the wizarding world to a false sense of security – to ruin.

"**As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you," said Dumbledore, "we heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort – learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins – went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."**

"**See here, Dumbledore," said Fudge**, with the audacity to smile, **"you – you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who – back? Come now, come now… certainly, Crouch may have **_**believed**_** himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders – but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore…"**

"**When Harry touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, he was transported straight to Voldemort," said Dumbledore steadily. "He witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office."**

Dumbledore looked around, glancing at the bed in which Harry sat, before announcing,** "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry tonight."**

**Fudge's curious smile lingered. He too glanced at Harry, then looked back at Dumbledore, and said, "You are — er — prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?"**

Instantly, Dumbledore's eyes took on a frightening, fiery look, and all except Fudge could see clearly that the wrong question had been asked. McGonagall faintly heard Sirius's animagus growl dangerously.

"**Certainly, I believe Harry," said Dumbledore. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."**

"**You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who…well…"**

Fudge looked over at Harry, who suddenly spoke, causing all attention in the room to be shifted to him.

"**You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge,"** Harry said.

In the course of the evening, McGonagall had never once thought about the article that had just come out that morning about Harry. Fudge would not be alone in thinking Harry unstable. Without planning to, Rita Skeeter had destroyed the credibility of the only remaining known witness of Voldemort's rebirth. McGonagall's hope all but disappeared.

"**And if I have?" **said Fudge, turning back to Dumbledore. **"If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place – "**

"**I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" said Dumbledore coolly.**

"**You admit that he has been having these pains, then?" said Fudge quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly — hallucinations?"**

"**Listen to me, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, taking a step toward Fudge, **a strange feeling of power radiating off him. **"Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."**

Fudge took half a step back, but continued to refuse to see sense.

"**You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before…."**

McGonagall had been in the process of unlocking her jaw to remind Fudge that there was no other scar quite like Harry's, but Harry himself responded first.

"**Look, I saw Voldemort come back!" Harry shouted. **He attempted to get out of his bed, but Mrs. Weasley pushed him back. **"I saw the death eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy – "**

"**Malfoy was cleared!" said Fudge, visibly affronted. "A very old family – donations to excellent causes – "**

Harry listed several more names, and Fudge brushed them all aside. Had McGonagall's knees not been locked as a result of her fury, she thought she might collapse over Fudge's idiocy.

"…**Fore heaven's sake, Dumbledore," **said Fudge, **"the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too – his tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them – the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"**

McGonagall's heart ached. **"You fool!" **she cried out. **"Cedric Diggory! Mr. Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"**

"**I see no evidence to the contrary!" shouted Fudge**, his face turning purple. **"It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!"**

McGonagall felt swamped and suffocated by grief and thought her heart might have actually torn in two. Cedric's death, be brushed off as an accident? The work of a man out of his mind? The very idea of such a grievous lie…

McGonagall thought about Sprout, who, by now, would be barely controlling her pain in front of Cedric's parents, who had been nothing but proud of their son, and with good reason. The ruin Fudge's stubbornness was causing already was difficult to believe.

Dumbledore gave Fudge concrete, concise directions on what the Minister ought to do to prevent chaos. Fudge declined them with pitiful excuses relating only to himself.

"**You are blinded," said Dumbledore, his voice rising now, the aura of power around him palpable, his eyes blazing once more, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any — and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now — take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act — and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"**

Though McGonagall agreed with every word Dumbledore said and had thought them herself for quite some time, she had never, in all the time Fudge had been Minister, heard Dumbledore express such views. She knew now that Dumbledore was furious beyond expression.

"**Insane," whispered Fudge, still backing away. "Mad . . ."**

"**If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, "we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I — I shall act as I see fit."**

In that instant, McGonagall knew that, within the week, there would be a rebirth of the Order of the Phoenix. If the Ministry would not act, someone else would have to.

"**Now, see here, Dumbledore," he said, waving a threatening finger. "I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me —"**

"**The only one against whom I intend to work," said Dumbledore, "is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."**

Fudge seemed to be unable to think of a decent reply. Almost pleadingly he said, **"He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be…"**

Snape suddenly moved from McGonagall's side, ripping back his left sleeve while approaching Fudge. He brazenly stuck his forearm into Fudge's view. The Minister jumped backward.

"**There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."**

This, McGonagall thought, must surely convince Fudge. Her hopes were dashed to the ground as Fudge shook his head and turned again to Dumbledore.

"**I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."**

Fudge had been about to grace the room with his absence when he suddenly turned and approached Harry's bed. McGonagall watched carefully, her fingers itching for her wand. Sirius seemed to be thinking along the same lines as the professor, for his hackles were raised and his teeth bared, ready to attack if given the slightest indication it might be appropriate.

"**Your winnings," [Fudge] said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket and dropping it onto Harry's bedside table. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances…"**

As Fudge stormed out, McGonagall stood frozen in awe of Fudge's audacity.

Dumbledore turned to look at the group surrounding Harry's bed the moment the door to the wing shut behind Fudge.

"**There is work to be done," he said. "Molly, am I right in thinking I can count on you and Arthur?"**

McGonagall's head began to swim as Mrs. Weasley assured Dumbledore of her family's loyalty. Bill volunteered to go inform his father of the ordeal, patted Harry's shoulder, kissed his mother, threw on his cloak, and left.

"**Minerva," said Dumbledore**, awakening his deputy from her dazed state, **"I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also – if she will consent to come – Madame Maxime." **

McGonagall nodded, then left. As she made her way out to the grounds, she very consciously refrained from thinking through what had just happened in the hospital wing and focused instead on the work to be done.

Snape would be gone by the time she spoke to Dumbledore again, of that McGonagall was sure. She began to wonder if Snape would manage to make it back to Hogwarts, but quickly shut down that train of thought. She could not handle more distress.

Hagrid and Madame Maxime, considering their size and heredity, would undoubtedly be sent out to the mountains in search of friendships with the giants that remained. McGonagall did not at all envy them.

McGonagall knocked on Hagrid's door. He quickly answered. His beard had beads of water stuck in it and his nose was red. In his hand he held a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth.

"Awful, innit?" Hagrid said nasally as a greeting. "Poor Cedric an' all… Things will ge' under control soon though, eh? Too much evidence – "

"Fudge doesn't believe us, Hagrid," McGonagall said lowly.

Hagrid's face reddened with anger. "Wha' do yeh mean, he don' believe us?"

"Just that," McGonagall said. "Dumbledore wants you up in his office."

Thrusting his chest out, a determined look on his face, Hagrid set out across the grounds without another word.

Refusing to remain stationary for long, McGonagall took off for the Beauxbatons carriage. She could hear wild sobbing from well over a hundred feet away and had to wait a good two minutes before Madame Maxime stepped out of the carriage and closed the door behind herself, leaving her students to weep inside.

"Minerva," said Maxime, addressing McGonagall for the first time by first name, "I thought you would all 'ave been een your offices."

"There's work to be done, Olympe," McGonagall responded. "Are you willing to help us?"

"_Oui_," Maxime replied with a nod. "I cannot eemagine what ze staff of 'Ogwarts must feel now."

"Dumbledore will speak to you in his office," McGonagall said. "As soon as you can, please."

Maxime nodded, then retreated into the carriage to inform her students she would return soon. McGonagall did not wait, but set out back across the grounds.

* * *

><p>McGonagall had no recollection of what she did for the next hour. She only knew that she found herself in Dumbledore's office, leaning on his desk with an inked quill in one hand and a scroll of parchment in the other, planning to write down a rough draft of plans to be put into action.<p>

"We'll need a base of operations, of course," McGonagall said. "I could offer my family home. It's not very practical, I'll admit, but if push comes to shove…" She made a quick, illegible note.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said softly.

"And I've had replies from some of those that I wrote to earlier. Two, I think, will by now have been turned by Skeeter's article on Harry. Several others, however, will be willing to help however they can, though they may be more of a source of information than a resource for surveillance and battling." Another note, more poorly written than the last.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said again, more insistently.

"We should try to find someone that works with Azkaban affairs, to keep an eye on the dementors and – "

"Minerva!" Dumbledore said loudly.

McGonagall stopped suddenly and looked at Dumbledore's face.

"You've done all I can ask for tonight," Dumbledore said, returning to his original volume.

"But there's still so much to be done!" McGonagall objected.

"Go and grieve, Minerva," Dumbledore said.

"But – but – " McGonagall spluttered.

"I believe Pomona would be grateful to see you," Dumbledore suggested.

Understanding herself as dismissed, McGonagall turned, left the office, and soon found herself outside Sprout's office door. When she knocked, Flitwick answered. He nodded over his shoulder.

Sprout was sitting on the edge of her bed, her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking violently.

McGonagall and Flitwick exchanged sorrowful glances, then McGonagall forced herself forward and sat beside Sprout, putting a gentle hand on Sprout's shoulder. "Pomona…"

"Oh, Minerva!" Sprout said into her hands. "He's gone! So senseless – so pointless! Why?"

McGonagall took a deep breath and braced herself. "Pomona, I think there's something you should hear from me, rather than from the papers."

Sprout slowly lifted her face to look at McGonagall as Flitwick came to sit across the pair to listen.

"How could there possibly be more news?" Sprout asked hoarsely.

"Fudge does not believe us," McGonagall said, beginning to choke on her words. "He intends on doing nothing to prevent a second rising."

"But – but Crouch! He'll testify! It's been filtering through the staff that we've got him. Surely Fudge can't – " Flitwick quickly reasoned.

McGonagall shook her head slowly. "Fudge brought a dementor onto the grounds."

Sprout's eyes widened in horror. She seemed to have lost her ability to speak completely.

"Then Crouch is gone?" Flitwick asked quietly.

McGonagall nodded.

"Well then how does Fudge think Cedric was killed, if not for You-Know-Who?" Flitwick asked. Sprout nodded, encouraging McGonagall to answer the question.

"Cedric won't be getting justice any time soon," McGonagall explained.

"Oh, no! Oh, no!" Sprout cried, suddenly regaining her voice and hiding her face once more. "It'll start all over again!"

McGonagall heard Flitwick sniff across her and nodded.

"It already has," she said. Then, suddenly, the tears McGonagall had held back all night burst forth and she wept openly with her coworkers.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

****Politicians... They make themselves so easy to dislike intensely. Let's just start from scratch, shall we? :P If only!

Hope your year's been fantastic so far! Leave a review!


	75. Chapter 75

_**SEVENTY-FIVE – The Beginning **_

Long after much of the staff and students of Hogwarts had fallen into a fitful sleep, Dumbledore paced circles in his office, deep in thought. It had been two hours since anyone had disturbed him, the last visitor having been Madame Pomfrey to inform him that she had given Sprout a mild sleeping potion and had convinced Flitwick and McGonagall to return to their own quarters. Since Pomfrey's exit, no sound had been made in the room but Dumbledore's feet hitting the ground. Even Fawkes remained eerily silent, without ruffling a single feather.

The door to the office suddenly opened without warning and Snape stood in the frame, pale but otherwise unscathed.

"I must confess you look far better than I predicted," Dumbledore said with relief evident in his voice.

"My comeuppance will come when I will not be seen by you daily," Snape stated matter-of-factly. "I've until the staff's dismissed. Then - " he hesitated slightly, "then I won't look so well."

"I've gotten an idea that Madame Pomfrey wishes to stay through the – "

"No. If I recover too quickly it will be assumed that the lesson has not been learned."

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "I've been kind enough to check on your welfare, now I must know what transpired."

"I've no desire to tell the tale," Snape said blandly, then walked over to a cabinet and ripped it open, exposing the pensieve. Putting his wand to his temple, he continued, "I will wait, as you will undoubtedly deem it necessary to question me before I attempt to sleep."

"I've done enough questioning for the night," Dumbledore admitted, "and I've no desire to keep you from a well earned rest, so long as you've given the entire memory, start to finish."

Snape's eyes flared dangerously. "You know better than anyone that I have no desire to see the Dark Lord return to his full power."

Without another word, Snape stormed out of the office, leaving Dumbledore to enter the pensieve.

Dumbledore found himself just outside a graveyard, one which he had visited before, when Tom Riddle had first gone off the map. Snape, in full Death Eater garb, glided past Dumbledore, who began to follow, eager to find any missing pieces to the puzzle that he could.

Snape was stopped as he was about o enter the boundaries of the cemetery by two Death Eaters. Without a word, he pulled back his left sleeve to reveal his Mark.

"A little late, aren't we?" asked the voice of Nott.

"Not by choice," Snape said in his usual slippery voice.

Even under his hood, Dumbledore could see Nott's smile.

"That can't be _you_, Snape. Not after so many years of happy living in Hogwarts."

"And who says I've been happy?" Snape spat. "I will see the Dark Lord now, and he will decide what to do, not you."

Nott smiled still wider, then turned and lead Snape into the Riddle house, up to a sitting room. Upon entering, Snape was greeted by the curious looks of Peter Pettigrew, an unmasked Lucius Malfoy, and Voldemort himself.

"You dare come back after such a long wait, Severus?" as Voldemort pronounced Snape's name, he drew his wand and waved it, causing Snape's mask to vanish.

"You must understand my situation, my lord. I returned as quickly as I was able, as soon as Dumbledore was more preoccupied with other things besides keeping track of me," Snape said smoothly.

Voldemort hissed at the mention of Dumbledore's name.

As the hissing continued, Dumbledore himself looked around quizzically. Voldemort had closed his mouth and was looking Snape over skeptically. It took half a minute for Dumbledore to finally look at the ground in the corner behind him, where a massive snake lay, looking unpleasant and menacing. Dumbledore's attention was soon diverted from the new addition to Voldemort's ranks, however.

"So you allow Dumbledore to control you?" Voldemort queried, a terrible look on his already distorted face.

"I couldn't allow him to become suspicious, not before I'd seen you," Snape answered. "I expect and understand that I will be questioned and punished as is deemed fit."

"And why would you submit yourself to being questioned and punished?"

"Such a prospect is more appealing to me than remaining in the chains that come with being under Dumbledore's employ."

Voldemort considered. He took a moment to hiss something to the snake in the corner. Dumbledore watched the exchange carefully, but was unable to pick up on anything. He very briefly entertained the idea of bringing in Harry to translate, but ruled out he possibility as, among other things, Voldemort was sure to translate himself.

"It has been well over ten years, Severus, yet you never searched for me. I admit disappointment," Voldemort said unpleasantly.

"I admit to being fool enough to think you vanished for good, my lord. I sought what refuge I could. Dumbledore's an old fool. He fell for his old student's cry for help, my scheme to keep out of Azkaban," Snape said.

Despite the seriousness of the situation around him, Dumbledore couldn't help but smile slightly, wondering how often he was called such names behind his back.

"You were unwilling to go to Azkaban for me?" Voldemort asked dangerously.

"I was fearful of spending my life there. Without you, I'd have no hope of ever escaping. I sought other options and awaited a time that someone would rise to complete your work."

"Why did you not rise yourself?"

"I follow and improve plans, my lord, but I have no great skill in inventing them," Snape said, staring straight ahead as Voldemort began to walk around him slowly.

"My lord," said Lucius Malfoy bravely, "if I may?"

"Speak, Lucius, but with caution," Voldemort said, granting Mr. Malfoy permission to speak.

"If Severus is truly loyal to you, my lord, then –"

"He will have over a decade of information on Dumbledore for me, and is already well placed as a spy. He also, of course, has very easy access to Harry Potter," Voldemort spat the name with contempt and hatred. "Yes, Lucius, the thought had occurred to me."

Mr. Malfoy bowed his head. "Of course, my lord."

"Your situation does you credit, Severus. You will leave now and remain silent until I call you again," Voldemort said imperiously.

Snape bowed and headed for the door, Voldemort's words following him.

"Whatever my decision, Severus, you have not avoided the penalty of abandoning me."

As the door closed behind Snape, Dumbledore's world began spinning around him until he found himself in his office once more. He closed the cabinet that contained his pensieve, sat down at his desk, connected his fingers at the tips, and sat motionless until the sun made its appearance.

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p>Thank you for telling the students what happened to Cedric, Albus.<p>

They have every right to know, and to say we do not owe it to Cedric's memory is a lie.

_So what now? The students are homebound, the Ministry refuses to see sense, and You-Know-Who is gaining power quietly._

Now, we rest. Next year will bring many trials, I'm sure.

Rest! As if any of us can rest!

Go visit with family, travel.

While we still can, eh?

_You're sure you don't want us to stay, Albus?_

I'll be doing a fair bit or traveling myself, Filius.

Not for pleasure, though. I know you a little too well for that, Albus.

I'll admit my travel will not be for pleasure. However, it will still be nice to have a change of scene. It'll do me good, and I encourage you to try it.

_I second that. Go see your brother in the States, Pomona! It's been a few years, has it not?_

Might I ask why you're tag teaming me?

_Because you could do with a break from Hogwarts, and from the Ministry._

Because the American Wizarding Government is so much better than ours…

_You won't have to deal with any of the officials, at least. _

_I think visiting the States is a splendid idea, Pomona._

Oh, changed your mind about going somewhere, have you?

_I've got friends in Italy I've been telling myself to visit. I might as well go._

And you, Minerva?

_My summer is planned._

Doing what?

_People watching._

…People watching? You hate people.

_Do not._

Do so!

_I DISLIKE, but do not hate, unintelligent people. However, I'm quite certain I'll learn loads of interesting things at the places I'll be._

And what places are those?

_Is the third degree really necessary?_

Absolutely.

_Well I'm glad to see you returning to your nosy self._

NOSY?

_Oh, yes. Nosy, oh great Queen of Gossip._

That title hasn't been used in years and I'm not certain how I feel about it being resurrected…

_You always liked it in the past._

Should I expect these sorts of annoyances to occur regularly over the summer?

_That'd be a good idea._

Fine! I'll go on a trip to see my brother!

_Good! Get packing!_

You're all incredibly frustrating. I trust you know that?

_Of course!_

_I've worked hard to become so!_

Well I'll be sure to say goodbye and jinx you on my way out.

_I'm glad she's taking a break. Are you even pausing to rest, Albus?_

There is no rest for the wicked, Filius, and as long as the wicked is active, then so am I.

_Well, so be it. I wish you the best of luck, and do keep me updated!_

I'll write when I can, Filius.

_Good to know. Good to know. I'll be off to pack, myself. Do try to have a good summer!_

…

…

_Well, Albus, Severus, where will we be meeting tonight?_

We have a definite setting for headquarters now.

_Wonderful! Where?_

Sirius's family's house.

_**The Blacks'? The house of the Black family is the headquarters of the Order?**_

Sirius offered it. Quite frankly, I don't think we could do much better. It's very well hidden, and tonight we'll be placing it under the Fidelius charm.

_No one's been in that house for YEARS, Albus…_

Yes, there is some extensive work to be done on it.

_**Delightful as that work sounds – **_

You will not have to assist, Severus, nor will you, Minerva. Each of you have your own work to do.

_Then who on earth is going to be cleaning that place up? I don't even want to think about the condition it's in, and we've all got assignments already._

Molly Weasley has offered her services and those of her children.

_**The Wealseys aren't moving in, are they?**_

For the summer, they very well may. Molly and Arthur are discussing their options this week.

_Cheer up, Severus! You've trained the Weasley children well to avoid you._

_**Charming, Minerva.**_

_You know how I try, Severus._

Minerva, twenty minutes, - 

_Knockturn Alley, I know. Merlin's beard, I hate that place. None the less, I shall go. Severus, I'll see you when I see you. Albus, I'll report back this evening._

Good luck!

Now, Severus, have you any new information?

_**Slow and steady, Dumbledore. That's the plan.**_

Allies?

_**He's been lining things up, but hasn't made any advances towards allies yet.**_

And he trusts you?

_**Yes.**_

Very good. 

_**In fact, I must be off. **_

Do be sure to inform me as soon as you can upon your arrival back. Be safe, Severus.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

That awkward moment when you don't update for over a month... oops!

I hope you all enjoyed the update, sorry if the first scene seems below standard, I just wrote it for you yesterday. Now, have a happy rest of February and leave a review!


	76. Order of the Phoenix

_**SEVENTY-SIX – Dudley Demented, A Peck of Owls**_

As the summer progressed, Dumbledore spent nearly all of his time researching things in his office, trying to talk sense into Fudge, flitting around to meet various Order members, and desperately searching for a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Though several Order members had volunteered for the job, Dumbledore knew all too well that it was important they remain where they were. Each member and their given assignment were indispensible. To replace one of them would take just as much effort as finding a new professor, if not more.

Hagrid had set out for the mountains as soon as term ended. He and Madame Maxime had set a rendezvous point, from which they traveled together to the giants. The pair very rarely risked communicating with anyone, as if it were discovered what they were doing, they would be stopped and the giants becoming allied with the Death Eaters would become a certainty. The only person they ever wrote to was Dumbledore, and even that they only risked three times the entire summer.

Snape had originally planned on remaining in his quarters at Hogwarts through the summer, but it quickly became evident that such a plan was impractical and he left the castle to pick up residence at the house he had grown up in, so as to be more readily available to the beck and call of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He was seen rarely outside Order meetings, and he was always in a foul mood and only willing to speak with Dumbledore, and typically in private.

McGonagall spent her nights at Hogwarts, often staying up very late talking with Dumbledore. Her days were typically spent in her animagus form, casually strolling about Knockturn Alley and other notorious locations until finding an infamous face to quietly tail. Occasionally, Dumbledore asked her to set out in disguise to the Muggle world. McGonagall hated those days, as she spent a great deal of them on public transportation striking up random conversations, trying to figure out if anything was going on with Muggles that their papers were not reporting.

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p>Alright… I'll admit that I'm glad you lot made me come out to see my brother.<p>

_Told you._

Yeah, yeah.

_You're missing some delightfully frustrating articles, however._

I'm sure I am. If you don't mind, I'd like to remain unaware of such frustrating articles until I return.

_Well then you'd better shut your book, because I'd like to discuss them._

I was here first!

_Seniority rules._

I don't play that way!

_Very well, leave your notebook open. Minerva, what do you have to say about yesterday's article on – _

Filius, I'm jinxing you when I get back!

_Well, now that she's gone…_

_Really, Minerva, what DO you have to say about yesterday's article on Albus?_

_I think it's utterly ridiculous and beyond frustrating, but surely you knew that?_

_I did. I was rather hoping Albus would poke his nose in, actually._

Then you simply should have asked my opinion, Filius.

_I figured you were busy._

A short break won't hurt.

_How on earth are you dealing with all these awful things being said, Albus?_

The fact that the Ministry sees me as a threat is actually slightly, and strangely, entertaining. Quite frankly, as long as I'm not removed from chocolate frog cards, the papers may publish as they wish.

_They should be focusing on other things besides bashing you and Harry!_

Agreed. I did not say that they're being smart. As a matter of fact, they're being remarkably foolish.

_Where's Skeeter gone off to? She likes to stir the pot. I thought she might have published something in support of us just to get Fudge's blood pressure up._

_Remarkably, she's gone off the grid._

_Really?_

_She hasn't published anything since that awful article on Harry._

_Strange…_

_Very strange. But I won't complain. I'm utterly relieved and can only hope it will continue._

_She hasn't DISAPPEARED disappeared, has she?_

No. She's been seen several places. She just hasn't published anything.

_Why would she be offed when she's done nothing but help You-Know-Who's cause, either wittingly or not?_

_Fair point. What about Xenophilius?_

_Who of worth reads the Quibbler anyway?_

I find the Quibbler entertaining.

_But you don't take it seriously._

The existence of nargles would explain a lot.

_And I suppose you think there are whacksputs and crumple-horned whatevers roaming about too?_

Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, Minerva. 

…_I sincerely hope you're just trying to annoy me, Albus._

_Back to my original question, if you please._

Xenophilius is more on track than everyone else. He thinks Cornelius and I had a falling out.

_Over his "army of pyre-fiends."_

I thought no one of worth read the Quibbler?

_You had that article opened last night when I was waiting for you to come out of your Pensieve. The headline caught my eye and curiosity got the best of me._

_Xenophilius is still on about Cornelius and his pyre-fiends?_

_Very much so._

_Well… he's got some sort of sense. At least he can see that Cornelius's intentions are not turned toward the good of the people._

_I suppose I'll give him that._

_How's Harry doing?_

_Albus, YOU answer that one._

…_do I detect a hint of animosity?_

Minerva's upset because I have not yet permitted Harry to leave his Aunt and Uncle's. He's in good health.

_Perhaps physically, but you can't expect a child that's gone though what he just did to be fine, ESPECIALLY if he's been removed from all those that understand what's going on!_

I think the days have passed when we could call Harry a child, Minerva. And you know well enough why he has to stay.

_His time's just about up and you've not even started making plans to remove him from the Muggles._

_I think I'll just mosey on out of this argument…_

_Good bye, Filius._

Harry will remain with his Aunt and Uncle for the time being, Minerva, and this conversation is over.

_You, Albus, are – _

An infuriating old man. I shall see you in London shortly!

* * *

><p>By the time McGonagall stood to leave the Order meeting, Dumbledore had hurried off to meet an old friend for some thing or another.<p>

"Not so fast, everyone!" Mrs. Weasley called as several Order members made to get up and leave. "As you might have noticed, this kitchen is now fully habitable and fully functional. To celebrate, I've made you all dinner. Sit down!"

Half a dozen members had airtight excuses and were permitted to leave. Lupin, however, was not among that group. Despite his best efforts, Mrs. Weasley refused to permit him to leave.

"Remus, I won't have it!" Mrs. Weasley said firmly to Lupin. "You need to eat! Sit down and stay for dinner."

"Molly, I've already told you that I have to – "

"Sit!"

Lupin cowed under Mrs. Weasley's stern gaze and fell back into his seat beside Sirius.

"Minerva, don't think I can't see you trying to slink off," Mrs. Weasley said. "I insist you stay."

"Thank you, Molly, but I've got to get going," McGonagall politely declined.

"Nonsense," Mrs. Weasley countered absentmindedly as she set a pot of stew on the stove to heat back up. "Dumbledore told me you've got the night free." She went over to the staircase and began calling her children down.

"Resistance is futile, Minerva," said Kingsley good-naturedly.

"Molly's food is way better than the mice you've probably been scrounging in Knockturn Alley, anyway," Sirius said with a mischievous grin.

McGonagall looked sternly at Sirius, but he only grinned annoyingly.

"Missed me, Professor?" he asked.

"Hardly," McGonagall bit back, seating herself next to Kingsley.

"Who's got Harry now?" Tonks asked.

"Hestia," Mrs. Weasley said, reentering conversation, having finished calling her children. "Then Mundungas takes over at eight." She frowned at her last statement, looking at Mundungas Fletcher, who had fallen asleep halfway through the meeting and remained at the table with his mouth gaping, snoring occasionally.

Thumps began to sound from the stairs and Ron, Hermione, and Ginny tumbled into the kitchen.

"Tonks!" Ginny said excitedly, quickly dropping into a seat beside Tonks and pulling a picture out of her pocket. "Hermione found this here. You've got to try it! Doesn't she, Hermione?"

Hermione sat beside Ginny. "I said I wouldn't force you, Tonks, but Ginny insists."

"Hmmm," Tonks said thoughtfully, looking at the picture Ginny had given her. "I'll give it a go after I get some food in me. The eyebrows look challenging."

"Ron, sit down," Hermione said, looking back at Ron, who stood awkwardly a few steps away.

"Hello, Professor," Ron greeted as he sat down, having recollected himself.

Hermione and Ginny looked across and down the table, finally spotting their professor.

"Professor McGonagall!" Hermione said, sounding surprised. "You don't stay after meetings."

"Typically, no," McGonagall said, before Sirius could make a smart comment. "A slight change of pace."

"Mum, when's Harry going to be able to come?" Ron asked his mother. "I'm tired of listening to these two gabbing away."

"And I'm tired of listening to Pig hooting all the time," Ginny said smartly. "Told you I'd be willing to cut you a deal."

"I'm not giving Pig to Fred and George!" Ron said indignantly.

"I gave Crookshanks as an alternative to Fred and George," Ginny said casually.

"That's enough," Mrs. Weasley said. "Where are your brothers?"

As if on que, Fred and George suddenly appeared behind their mother.

"We're right here, Mum," said Fred.

"Figured it'd take these ickle ones a while to get down here," George supplied, gesturing at his siblings and Hermione.

"Haven't I told you _not_ to apparate in the house?" Mrs. Weasley said sharply. "Sit down, let's eat!"

Fred and George noticed Professor McGonagall as they sat beside Mundungus Fletcher and greeted her cordially before noiselessly counting down and shouting in a sleeping Mundungus's ear.

"Blimey!" Mundungas exclaimed, jumping.

"Morning, Dung," greeted George.

"If you wake that painting up again, boys, so help me," Mrs. Weasley cautioned.

"Oh no, Mum, we've learned our lesson," Fred said with a shudder.

"Really, Sirius, we pity you for the childhood you must have had," George said with an apologetic bow of his head.

"Pity me, why don't you?" Mundugnus asked, rubbing his ear.

"Ah, you'll be fine, Dung," said Sirius.

"Where's Arthur gone, Molly?" Tonks asked suddenly.

"He went to check on our house quickly," Mrs. Weasley said, setting down one last food item before finally sitting down. "He'll be back in just a few minutes.

"Now, you lot," Mrs. Weasley continued, pointing her fork at Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, "tomorrow we're going to pull down that chandelier in the front hall and clean it."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Hermione said.

"That chandelier's made of copper, Hermione," Sirius said. "It's not supposed to be green."

"We've got to polish that whole thing?" Ron asked, mouth ajar. "That'll take all day! That thing's massive!"

"Fred and I can get those doxies in the parlor, Mum," George volunteered.

Lupin, Sirius, and McGonagall all looked at the twins suspiciously, wondering why they would be so eager to deal with doxies.

"You'll do no such thing," Mrs. Weasley stated firmly. "You're going to clean up that mess you made in Ron's room yesterday!"

"Yeah, thanks, by the way," Ron said sarcastically.

"What'd you do now?" Tonks asked.

"Harmless prank," Fred said carelessly.

"Hardly worth mentioning," George agreed.

"They set off a load of their own invention," Mrs. Weasley said disapprovingly. "It turned all of Ron's things black and stained the walls – and it's _not funny_, you two!"

"Not funny at all," Fred said. He and George quickly reigned in their grins. Once their mother turned away they grinned again, causing Ron to scowl.

Ron suddenly reached under the table. He brought his arm back up, holding an ugly ginger cat with a squished face by the scruff of its neck. "Get him out of here," he demanded of Hermione."

"We've got it, Ron," said Fred eagerly.

As Ron began handing Crookshanks over, Hermione snatched her cat away.

"You are _not _permitted to touch my cat!" Hermione snapped at Fred and George, cradling Crookshanks.

"Blimey, Hermione, what do you think we're going to do?" George asked.

"You've been out for him ever since he made off with a bag of your toffees!"

"Well, Hermione," said Fred, sounding rather reasonable, "we told you that you can chuck up the eleven sickles and we'll leave Crookshanks be. Until then, we consider the contents of his stomach our property, and we'll do what's necessary to retrieve said property."

Hermione's face filled with disgust. "Maybe if you'd – "

"What's this about toffees?" Mrs. Weasley asked dangerously, suddenly hanging over her sons' shoulders.

Fred glared at Hermione, who looked more than pleased, while George set to work on pacifying his mother.

"We bought a bunch of stuff at Honeydukes last year, Mum," said George. "Hermione hasn't been watching that ball of fluff close enough and he swiped one of our last bags of candy from our room."

"And what money did you buy stuff from Honeydukes with?" Mrs. Weasley asked sharply. "You gambled your entire savings and never got it back – yes, your father told me!"

Fred and George recognized their defeat and remained silent.

"One whiff of toffees, boys, so help me," Mrs. Weasley growled. "And you'd best hope and pray you don't cause another incident like last year!"

Despite Mrs. Weasley's dangerous glare, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny all burst into laughter. Hermione looked as though she was having difficulty maintaining a disapproving expression.

"Merlin's beard!" Fred gasped.

"His face! _His face!_" George added.

Mrs. Weasley huffed, and would have silenced her children if not for the sound of the front door opening. She hurried off to see if it was her husband coming in.

"Mind filling us in?" Tonks asked.

"I'd like to share in a good laugh," Sirius added.

McGonagall and Lupin exchanged glances, believing nothing good could come from the witnessed responses.

"When Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron went to get Harry last year before the Quidditch Cup, the twins left a piece of their candy for Harry's cousin," Hermione said in the most disapproving voice she could manage.

Sirius perked up a good deal. "So what'd the candy do?"

"It caused Dudley's tongue to grow to an absurd size," Hermione informed.

"Matched the rest of him, it did!" George gasped.

Sirius, Tonks, Mundungas, and several other people gathered at the table began chuckling.

"It's not funny!" Hermione said loudly. "Dudley could have choked to death!"

"Bet that kid's a bit more cautious about what he eats now, eh?" Sirius asked with a laugh.

Tonks shook her head. "He can barely get through the door!" she burst.

"And yet Harry comes to school every year looking as though he hasn't eaten all summer," McGonagall said quietly to Lupin.

"Mummy makes sure her popkin doesn't ever get hungry," Lupin said sarcastically. "They're scared of Harry. They don't want him to gain strength."

"Well they're more of idiots than I thought," McGonagall scoffed.

"We've got to give them some credit, however small an amount," said Lupin. "Harry didn't turn out with a big head – literally or figuratively," he finished with a small smile.

McGonagall gave Lupin a fleeting amused look.

"Get yourselves together, your mother's coming back in a moment," Mr. Weasley said in form of greeting upon entering the kitchen. His children quickly sobered and began eating their dinner.

Dinner passed pleasantly enough. The twins, having had their fun, behaved in a way which pleased their mother through the rest of the meal. Mundungas left five minutes to eight to relieve Hestia of her guard duties, though neither Mrs. Weasley nor Sirius seemed particularly pleased that it was Mundungas that would be in change of Harry's safety for the foreseeable future.

McGonagall rose from the table with Kingsley, bid everyone good bye, and headed for the door.

"Minerva, you know that Fudge scheduled a mandatory meeting for Aurors on Wednesday?" Kingsley asked in the front hallway.

"I make a point of keeping track of every action of Fudge's possible," McGonagall said unhappily. "I'm rather interested to find out why he has deemed it necessary to have more meetings than normal."

Kingsley nodded. "We're all interested. That Wednesday meeting knocks me and Tonks off guarding Harry for those few hours. Mundungas already has an assignment at that time, Remus is supposed to be with the werewolf colony, and Hestia and Dedalus can't get out of their plans."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow at Kingsley.

"As I was supposed to be on duty at that time, it is my responsibility to find a substitute to cover that slot. Would you mind?"

McGonagall smiled slowly. "I'd be delighted, Kingsley. If we're lucky, some member of the Dursley family will step on a random cat's tail and get attacked," she said suggestively.

Kingsley returned the smile. "You be careful. If it's Dudley that steps on your tail, you'll probably never walk properly again."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I wasn't planning on updating, but I'm in a good mood and I want to celebrate it! Why am I in a good mood? Well, 1.2 billion other people on the planet are sharing the same joy as I am now. Understand that? High five! :D Don't get it? Oh well. Update! :)

Leave a review!


	77. Chapter 77

_**Seventy-Seven – Dudley Demented; A Peck of Owls**_

"All information I have managed to collect on Sirius Black suggests he is travelling, and quickly," announced Kingsley to a room full of Aurors. Fudge sat at the back with a ring of his personal staff, listening intently. "He hasn't raised any suspicions, magical or otherwise. As such, it is likely he has changed his appearance and is travelling in Muggle fashion."

Tonks, seated near the middle of the room, was having difficulty keeping her eyes open. Between her job, guard duty at the Ministry, and watching Harry, she had barely slept in the past several days. Having to sit through an absolutely pointless meeting filled with worthless information was not at all helpful. If Kingsley rattled on much longer, Tonks was sure she would fall asleep.

The door to the room opened and Tonks instinctively swung her head around to see Arthur Weasley enter the room and head for Scrimgeour. She forced herself to face the front again, even though she was desperately curious to find out what was so important that Mr. Weasley would have to disrupt a meeting to talk about.

Tonks looked Kingsley over intently. He might as well have not even noticed Mr. Weasley come in, as he continued on with his presentation without missing a beat.

Scrimgeour stood and motioned Kingsley to stop talking. "Tonks!" he barked out.

Tonks and Kingsley made eye contact for a fraction of a second before she rose and faced Scrimgeour. "Yes, sir!" she called back.

"Weasley needs you for paperwork," he said unhappily.

"About the cursed bracelet Mr. Nelson used to kill his sister. The trial's tomorrow," Mr. Weasley elaborated. He drew his eyebrows together. While this made Mr. Weasley look very serious, Tonks knew all too well that paperwork over a cursed bracelet was not what was concerning the man. The paperwork had been taken care of days ago.

"Nelson's bracelet," she said. "Right!" Much to the dismay of her coworkers, Tonks began climbing over them to get out of the row in which she had sat, stepping on most people's feet as she did so.

"What's really going on, Arthur?" Tonks whispered as soon as the door to the meeting room has shut behind her.

"Wait," Mr. Weasley directed.

At a furious pace, the pair wound through the Ministry until entering Mr. Weasley's office.

"Harry and his cousin were attacked by a pair of dementors," Mr. Weasley said lowly.

"_What?_" Tonks burst involuntarily. She immediately threw her hand over her mouth, knowing full well that this was not a conversation to draw attention to. Most people in the Ministry had left for the evening, but there were sure to be people staying late to catch up on work.

"They're fine!" Mr. Weasley said quickly. "As soon as this meeting is over, you and Kingsley are to get to headquarters."

"Why not just wait until the end of the meeting?" Tonks bit out at a whisper. "Now I have to go back in there and act like nothing's wrong!"

"Dumbledore couldn't very well signal you while you were within Fudge's sight," Mr. Weasley began to explain.

"That doesn't – "

"Will you let me finish?" Mr. Weasley asked in an uncharacteristically harsh voice. "He told me to pull you out because he needs you to go to Knockturn Alley and find Minerva. Emergency meeting starts in an hour and she's not scheduled to come back until well after midnight. He's managed to contact everyone else."

"Why can't Dung do it? If I'm gone for too long you and I are done for!"

"Mr. Fletcher," said Mr. Weasley with somewhat clenched teeth, "is not in a position to be trusted with missions at the moment."

Tonks's face lit up with realization. "He was supposed to be watching Harry!"

"Exactly!" Mr. Weasley said. "Now, I've managed to convince Scrimgeour that I need you for half an hour, which means you're now down to – " he looked at his watch, " – twenty minutes to go, find Minerva, and get back."

"Oh, if Dumbledore doesn't get Dung, I will!" Tonks swore as she bolted out of the office. She suddenly reappeared in the doorway. "I need your travelling cloak. I can't very well go into Knockturn Alley in these clothes."

"Have fun morphing yourself to fit this," Mr. Weasley said sarcastically as he handed Tonks his cloak. "Nineteen minutes!" he called out as Tonks hurried off.

* * *

><p>Having morphed herself to have rather masculine physical traits, Tonks apparated just outside Knockturn Alley. She quickly checked to make sure her borrowed cloak covered her Auror robes before ducking into the dark street. To further avoid suspicion, she picked up an abandoned shopping bag, nearly gagged after accidentally smelling its contents, and hurriedly wove through the streets, keeping her eyes out for any sign of a cat.<p>

With four minutes left to spare, Tonks found a tabby with unmistakable marks around its eyes sitting on a barrel across Borgin and Burkes, looking intently into the store. As an old woman laden with bags came out of the store, Tonks "accidentally" bumped into her, causing the woman to drop all her bags.

True to her part, Tonks began to fret in a low voice. "Oh, no! I'm sorry! Let me help – "

"Don't you touch my things!" the woman snapped ferociously.

Tonks cast a quick glance over at the cat on the barrel, but it had not shifted its gaze. She took advantage of the fact that the old woman's attention was elsewhere and screwed up her eyes, morphing her left hand to it's natural shape as an added hint for her target.

"Shopping for potions, are you?" Tonks asked annoyingly, looking over the illegal contents of the woman's spilled bags and beginning to memorize her face to find and arrest her later. "Have you been able to find any phoenix tears anywhere?"

The cat's ears twitched towards the conversation, but its eyes remained focused inside the store.

"You fool! You can't find Phoenix tears anywhere unless you've got one," the woman muttered, shoving the last of her possessions back into her bags.

"Guess that's true. I suppose the only person who's got a phoenix is Dumbledore, and he'd never – "

"_Don't you dare start talking about HIM in this place!"_ the woman hissed. "That's a good way to get yourself hurt! Now get out of my sight!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Tonks saw the cat on the barrel take off. When she looked back forward, it was to see the woman reaching into her pocket. Thankful for an excuse to leave as promptly as possible, Tonks disapparated. She met Mr. Weasley in the main lobby of the Ministry and handed him his cloak.

"You'd better hurry," Mr. Weasley said as he fastened his cloak on. "If Scrimgeour hasn't sent someone out yet, he will very soon. Dumbledore's here now, I just saw him. Don't run into him."

"Right. See you in London," Tonks said over her shoulder as she bolted across the lobby. As she made her way back down to the Auror meeting, she heard Dumbledore, Fudge, and Madame Umbridge having a heated conversation, likely on their way to Fudge's office. She could not resist ducking down a side hallway to listen.

"The law is the law, Professor Dumbledore. Mr. Potter has broken it twice now," said Umbridge in her overly sugary voice, causing Tonks to gag slightly.

"It is well known and acknowledged at the Ministry that the first notice on underage magic that Mr. Potter received was unwarranted," Dumbledore argued.

"So you think it acceptable to let the boy off with casting a corporal Patronus in a Muggle neighborhood, is that it?" Fudge queried.

Tonks silently punched the air. She knew Harry was able to produce a working Patronus, but to hear Fudge admit such a thing was nearly as good as hearing Fudge actually saying that Harry was talented.

"I assume you've sent your representatives out by now, Cornelius," Dumbledore stated. "Have they reported incidences of concern from the Muggles?"

"What my 'representatives' report to me is none of your business, Dumbledore!"

The conversation died away, leaving Tonks with no alternative but to go back in to her meeting.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean, attacked by dementors?" Hestia Jones squealed at the Order meeting.<p>

"Just that," Dumbledore said, his voice far more agitated than usual.

"Where were you?" Hestia snapped, turning on Mundungas.

"I – I was – " Mundungas stuttered.

"Buying black market cauldrons," Dumbledore supplied.

As outrage broke out around the room, McGonagall felt her nails dig into her palm. She had not ever liked Mundungas much, but never had she wished him harm before tonight.

"You idiot!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "Do you realize how many problems this causes? All summer we've been trying to keep Harry safe and out of trouble, and now because of _you_, he's both in danger and trouble!"

"Molly," Mr. Weasley said lowly, putting his hand over his wife's, effectively silencing her.

"I have managed to convince Cornelius not to expel Harry yet. That decision depends on a hearing that will take place August twelfth," Dumbledore informed.

"Expulsion of students is not the Ministry's decision," McGonagall said tightly. "Not unless they're going to chuck him into Azkaban!"

"Wouldn't put it past them," said Sirius lowly.

"I have argued all that I can," Dumbledore said. "The negotiation about the hearing stands. Needless to say, a great defense will have to be built up."

"Fudge is going to do all he can to keep you out of that hearing, Dumbledore," Moody growled. "I'd keep an eye on your food, if I was you."

"Fudge may be a fool, but he's not fool enough to try to poison the head of Hogwarts," said Lupin.

"I think we're all missing quite an important question right at the moment," said Emmeline Vance. "Dementors don't just go for night time strolls, especially not so far from Azkaban. Who sent them?"

"Obvious, isn't it?" said Tonks. "You-Know-Who's tired of waiting!"

Dumbledore exchanged a look with Snape, who sat at the back of the room. "It is unlikely that Voldemort sent the dementors."

"Then the order would have had to come from within the Ministry," Emmeline reasoned.

"That would be correct," Dumbledore confirmed. "Ministry workers, you'll have to investigate discreetly."

"I'll see if I can get onto a committee that monitors Azkaban," Tonks volunteered. "I'll have access to a record of orders given to dementors, then."

Dumbledore nodded at Tonks, then looked around the room. "Harry's guard, you must plan Harry's removal from his aunt's. I want him here by the end of the week."

"We'll let you know when we've worked everything out," Lupin guaranteed.

"On that note, this gathering is dismissed." As an afterthought, Dumbledore added, "Molly, Arthur, I think you'll have to have a discussion with your sons about whatever their latest invention may be." He glanced toward the bottom of the door.

Mrs. Weasley quickly leapt out of her seat. No one dared get in her way as she rushed out of the room to find Fred and George and interrogate them.

As Snape made to leave the room, he stopped by Dumbledore.

"We need to know his reaction, Severus," Dumbledore said.

Snape nodded and left without a word.

* * *

><p>Back at Hogwarts, McGonagall sat in Dumbledore's office massaging her temples.<p>

"So they're determined to expel him?" McGonagall asked.

"I've been told in no uncertain terms that expulsion is their goal," Dumbledore replied.

"Expel Harry Potter," McGonagall said with a weak chuckle. "Who would have thought it'd come to this?"

"We've a new wave of problems now. It is unlikely that it was Voldemort who ordered the dementors to be sent to Harry, which means there is another force out to get him," Dumbledore reasoned.

McGonagall stopped rubbing her temples and looked at Dumbledore incredulously. "Tell me you're being thick headed on purpose, Albus."

"Cornelius would not risk his career and reputation just to get Harry out of his way," Dumbledore said. "Whoever sent the dementors has a more sinister plan for Harry."

McGonagall sighed heavily. "We've never had a calm school year, but now we can't have calm summers. We're getting too old for this."

"Speak for yourself," Dumbledore said calmly. "And before it slips my mind, I've a new assignment for you."

"Oh?" McGonagall queried, crossing her arms. "If you set me to start following Ministry workers around, Albus, I promise you that you'll regret it."

"Mr. Fletcher is not fit to guard Harry," Dumbledore said through uncharacteristically clenched teeth. "You will pick up his shifts."

"I don't know, Albus," McGonagall said with an exaggerated sigh. "Perhaps we should give Mundungas a second chance. After all, who could pass up such an offer on cauldrons?"

Dumbledore looked at his deputy over the top of his glasses unamusedly.

"Any news on a defense teacher yet?" McGonagall asked after smiling annoyingly.

"No, but there's still time."

"A month," McGonagall countered.

"That's quite a sum of time. I haven't stopped looking. We'll find someone."

"And if we don't?"

"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it," said Dumbledore, picking up an abandoned book on his desk.

"What about Hagrid?"

"I've not heard from him," Dumbledore answered, opening his book. "I've got Madame Grubbly-Plank standing by, just in case."

McGonagall frowned, then rose and left, knowing further questioning would not get her anywhere.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Yay! An update! It's only been... a month? ...oops.

Leave a review!


	78. Chapter 78

_**Seventy – Eight – The Advance Guard; Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place; The Order of the Phoenix**_

The following morning McGonagall made her way to headquarters to receive her schedule for guarding Harry. She found the place to be in disarray as Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were chasing what was unmistakably Harry's owl through the house.

"Hedwig! Come on, you'll wake Sirius's mum!" Hermione quietly attempted to reason.

"Are you really trying to reason with an – ow!"

Ron's attempt to whisper was ruined, as his own owl had flown into the back of his head, twittering excitedly as if it were playing a game.

"Get out of here, Pig!" Ron snapped at his own owl as the curtains covering the portrait of Mrs. Black flung open, releasing horrid screams.

"Who's trying to reason with an animal now?" Hermione said smartly.

"Hedwig, if you don't come down here now I'll set Fred and George on you!" Ginny snapped imperiously at the snowy owl perched a top the chandelier in the entrance hall.

Hedwig turned her head from Ginny and ruffled her feathers unconcernedly.

"Oh, you asked for it!" Ginny snarled before turning on her heel to find her brothers.

Hermione and Ron each grabbed a curtain and desperately tried to force them together.

"Mum'll be furious," Ron said after an almighty tug.

"I'll deal with your mum's screaming over _this_," Hermione responded, jerking her head towards the portrait.

McGonagall stepped up in front of the painting, whose eyes suddenly snapped into focus.

"_You!" _ the portrait screamed. _"You assisted in turning my eldest against us!"_

"I'm proud to say I did," McGonagall calmly replied. "Now do be quiet, or you'll lose your voice." McGonagall then drew each of the curtains shut, effectively silencing Mrs. Black.

"So you've – er – had your share of dealing with Mrs. Black?" Ron dared to ask lowly.

McGonagall merely raised an eyebrow as a response before changing the subject. "What in the world is going on with the owl?" She asked quietly.

"Harry sent Hedwig here last night with letters for us," Ron said unhappily at the same volume.

"He must have told her not to leave without replies from us," Hermione continued. "She kept pecking our hands last night and when we tried to send her out a few minutes ago, _this_ started!" She huffed and pulled her hand through her bushy hair. "If I could use my wand I'd have you down in two seconds, you menace!" she bit out at Hedwig.

"Fortunately for you," said McGonagall drawing her wand, "there are witches and wizards of age around."

Just as McGonagall cast a magical net about Hedwig that brought her down from the chandelier, Fred and George appeared, each with something like a butterfly net and looking far too excited.

"You ruined our fun, Professor," said Fred.

"Is that so?" McGonagall asked, grabbing Hedwig's legs and holding the bird upside down.

Hedwig squawked unhappily and made to pull herself up to bite McGonagall's fingers.

"If you so much as nip any one of my fingers, I'll make sure Potter fails his Transfiguration O.W.L.," McGonagall threatened Hedwig.

Hedwig glared at McGonagall, but recognized her defeat and went limp.

McGonagall handed the owl off to Ron. Hermione immediately reached out and clamped Hedwig's beak shut.

"I was so looking forward to a good chase," George said sadly, looking at his net.

"Alas, the well meaning professor interrupts our fun once more," Fred said gravely, sighing and shaking his head.

"You know," said Ginny slyly, "Pig's still fluttering about somewhere."

Fred and George punched the air triumphantly and set out to find Ron's owl.

"Don't you touch him!" Ron shouted, releasing Hedwig to chase his brothers.

As the curtains covering Mrs. Black flew open once more, Hermione made a mad grab for Hedwig, but was unsuccessful at recapturing her. Hedwig perched herself on top of a cabinet and looked at Hermione haughtily.

"Alright, you overgrown pigeon," Hermione said through her teeth. "You've asked for it!" She quickly tied her hair back.

As Hermione began approaching Hedwig, Mrs. Weasley came into the hall and greeted McGonagall by summoning her to help close the curtains again. That being done, Mrs. Weasley informed McGonagall that Lupin was waiting in the kitchen.

McGonagall made her way down to the kitchen as Mrs. Weasley began to take control of the children and owls loose in the house.

"For the last time, Alastor, we cannot bring the entire guard with us to go get Harry. They'll draw too much attention!" Lupin said exasperatedly, holding his head between his hands.

"You think there won't be anyone out looking for such a perfect opportunity to get the boy, Lupin? CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody shouted, pounding his fist on the table.

Lupin was so exhausted he hardly flinched at Moody's outburst.

"Alastor, quit bullying Remus," McGonagall said as she sat down at the table.

"The fool thinks three will be sufficient to go get the boy!" Moody said in outrage.

"Well we can hardly send the whole Order out after him," McGonagall reasoned.

"Your first shift starts tonight at six, Minerva," Lupin said tiredly, then pushed a piece of parchment toward her.

As McGonagall began to examine the schedule for Harry's guard, Moody voiced another concern.

"You fool! What are you doing, writing things like that down?" He made to grab the schedule from McGonagall, but she anticipated such a motion and moved the schedule out of Moody's reach.

"That parchment doesn't leave this room, Alastor," Lupin droned.

"What's to stop someone from making a copy and selling it, eh?"

"What good is that going to do anyone that has it?" Lupin snapped. "They'd have a job finding any of us in an invisibility cloak!"

"Invisibility cloaks have their weaknesses," Moody argued. As he spoke, his blue eye spun madly.

"Right, because there are so many people wandering around with replicas of your false eye," Lupin said sarcastically.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody yelled in reply.

"Stop your shouting, Alastor!" Mrs. Weasley chastised as she entered the kitchen. "You'll wake Mrs. Black."

"If your twins can't – "

"You think long and hard before you finish that sentence, Mr. Moody," Mrs. Weasley said dangerously.

"You're supposed to be at Privet Drive in ten minutes, Alastor," McGonagall said before Moody could make a reply to Mrs. Weasley.

Moody muttered something, then rose from the table and left.

"I deserve a drink," Lupin said, massaging his temples.

"Have you been able to settle on _anything_ for removing Harry?" McGonagall asked.

"We're getting him by way of brooms," Lupin said after recollecting himself. "If Moody has his way, it'll be the entire guard out to go get him. Several of us feel that a whole flock of people flying over London on brooms would draw just a bit too much attention to the situation."

"Both thoughts have their strengths and weaknesses," McGonagall said with a shrug. "Either way, it's not my job to argue with Alastor on this one. Have fun with that!"

"Technically, it is partially your job," Lupin said smartly. "You're a part of the guard now."

"A substitute," McGonagall stated. "And it'd hardly be appropriate for one of Harry's professors to go collect him."

"You didn't have a problem harassing the Dursleys a few summers ago," Lupin said slyly.

"I've no idea what you're talking about, Remus," McGonagall said haughtily, then left.

* * *

><p>The day for removing Harry had finally come. McGonagall, in her animagus form, sat in a low branch in a tree across the street from Number Four. In all the time in the days she had spent watching the house of the Dursleys, she had hardly seen Harry leave his room. There would be periods of time in which he would simply lay on his bed staring at nothing and others where he would be absolutely unable to stay still. Such behaviors confirmed the professor's fear that Harry was not handling his isolation from the wizarding world well. She had shared her findings with Dumbledore, who brushed them off by reminding her that Harry would be back where he belonged within the week.<p>

As the sun began to set, McGonagall noticed the three Dursleys starting to flit about the house, getting ready for their evening out. She laughed internally at the thought of the Dursleys wasting so much time and effort to go out to the non-existent All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition's award ceremony.

After another half hour, McGonagall saw Vernon Dursley through Harry's window. Vernon said several things, to which Harry gave short replies, or possibly no replies at all. Either way, Vernon soon left the room and then, with his wife and son, squeezed his overly large frame into his car and took off.

McGonagall meowed loudly, signaling Mrs. Figg's half-kneazle stationed down the street, which immediately headed for Mrs. Figg's house where the Advance Guard was waiting to be dispatched.

Forty five minutes passed. Those involved in the mission to remove Harry had agreed on allowing such a time to go by to ensure the Dursleys would be well out of their way, as well as to make sure it would be very dark before heading out.

Finally, the streetlights went out one by one. McGonagall watched as the entire Advance Guard walked down the sidewalk and slipped into the Dursley's house. Moments later, McGonagall was sure she heard something crash to the floor and shook her head slightly, knowing full well that it had been Tonks.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty!" said a voice at the base of the tree in which McGonagall sat.

McGonagall leapt down, transformed, and glared at Bill Weasley. "You've been spending too much time with Sirius," she said decidedly.

"I figured I'd stay in character," Bill said with an annoying smile that would make his twin brothers proud. "Here's your broom. Let's get going!"

"Are things set up for the meeting yet?" McGonagall asked as she mounted her broom.

"Mum's locking up the twins and Ginny as we speak."

"Ginny's being a problem now, is she?"

"She gets bored when Hermione's reading and has started hanging out with Fred and George. They're having quite the influence on her. It's scary how well she can lie now."

"Good to know," McGonagall said, kicking off.

"Five galleons says Mad-Eye'll make the group go through the clouds," Bill shouted as he and McGonagall flew over a clump of clouds.

"I know Moody too well to bet against it," McGonagall yelled back.

Nearly half an hour later, a silver blur went past the pair.

Bill looked over at McGonagall. "I don't think we've encountered any dangers. Do you?" he asked as he shot off a bunch of red sparks.

"Were we really expecting any?" McGonagall queried. "I thought we agreed to check up on the flight path before the Guard left just to pacify Alastor!"

"Fair point." Bill raised his wand again to send off a patronus. Moments later, a second silver blur passed the pair. Bill flicked his wand a third time to release a shower of green sparks.

Nearly fifteen minutes later, McGonagall and Bill began descending. Upon hitting solid ground, both immediately hopped off their brooms and hurriedly headed for Number Twelve, desperate to sit in front of a fire.

"No problems, I presume?" Mr. Weasley asked when McGonagall and Bill entered the kitchen.

"Other than it being absolutely freezing, no," Bill said, pulling up a chair by the fire.

Mr. Weasley rose from his seat, dug out a bottle of firewhisky from the depths of a cabinet where it had been hidden from the children in the house, and poured a glass for his son and for McGonagall.

"Well I'm glad that's done and over with," McGonagall said, seating herself at the table after taking a gulp of her drink.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Sirius with a laugh. "It's not over until Moody says it's over."

"I doubt even he will find much need to be nervous once Harry's here," said Mrs. Weasley, who was cutting a loaf of bread at the counter.

"Never underestimate Alastor Moody," McGonagall said, then finished her glass with a final swig.

"We'll know one way or another in twenty minutes," said Mr. Weasley. "Have you made the door imperturbable, dear?" he asked his wife.

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley said through tight lips. "If those boys try one more thing to listen in on these meetings, I promise you they won't walk for a week!"

"Why not just let them into the Order?" Sirius asked. "They're of age."

"I've got enough of my family stuck in the middle of this mess, Sirius!" Mrs. Weasley snapped violently. "You leave my boys alone!"

Sirius raised his hands in surrender.

"And you leave Harry alone too, when he gets here. Don't be putting any ideas in his head. He's got enough on his plate as it is!"

"The boy's my godson, Molly," said Sirius with a slight snarl. "I've got more say in what happens with him than _you_."

Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to make a quick reply, but the entrance of Dumbledore and Snape to the kitchen stopped her.

"Good evening," Dumbledore greeted. "I trust Harry is well under way?"

"He should be here any minute now," McGonagall answered.

"No point in waiting. Shall we begin?" Dumbledore asked. Just after he began the formalities of the meeting, Mrs. Weasley suddenly leapt out of her seat after announcing she had heard the door open. Less than five minutes later the Advance Guard filed into the kitchen.

"We still should have doubled back," Moody said stubbornly.

"You know what, Mad-Eye? If you feel that strongly about it, you should get back on your broom and go check the whole path out again!" Tonks said irritably.

"Harry's here now," said Lupin, taking off his traveling cloak. "There's no point arguing any further."

Moody muttered something incomprehensible as he seated himself. Tonks narrowed her eyes at him, then very purposely sat as far away from him as she could. Kinglsey sat beside her and she immediately began whispering furiously to him. Kingsley responded soothingly. His calm demeanor seemed to be contagious, as Tonks soon settled down.

Once everyone had warmed up and made themselves comfortable, Dumbledore started again.

* * *

><p>After the meeting had been adjourned, McGonagall left quickly with Dumbledore.<p>

"Don't you want to see Harry?" McGonagall asked on the front steps.

"Haven't I explained before that such a thing would be inadvisable?" Dumbledore asked before disapparating.

McGonagall was quick to follow suite. She picked up the conversation again as she and Dumbledore walked through the streets of Hogsmeade toward Hogwarts.

"You can't avoid him forever, Albus," McGonagall pointed out.

"Just until we figure out how to deal with the situation we're facing."

"You _know_ how to 'deal with the situation we're facing,' Albus! Teach him Occlumency!"

"We don't want to alarm him, Minerva!"

"So waiting until there's an emergency and then pushing the duty off on Severus will make things easier for Harry?" McGonagall asked smartly.

"Am I speaking to the same woman who has, for years, advised against stressing Harry further than necessary?" Dumbledore queried, beginning to sound annoyed.

"Am I speaking to the same man who, since that boy was orphaned, has been attempting to act in the boy's best interest, no matter how much it might surprise or upset him?" McGonagall pressed on.

"This is different."

"I certainly don't see how," McGonagall scoffed. "Harry needs to be prepared, Albus, not pampered."

"Pampered?" Dumbledore repeated, looking at McGonagall. His eyes failed to twinkle.

"Only a fool of a teacher would have their student be ill prepared for something they know full well will eventually happen!" McGonagall snapped.

"I think you've said enough, Minerva!" Dumbledore said sternly.

"Very well," McGonagall said haughtily. "I'll drop the subject until further notice, but you remember my words, Albus!" McGonagall picked up pace and was soon far ahead of the headmaster.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I think we can agree I've no legitimate excuse for not updating, as my summer's started now... My bad. Well, happy summer for my fellows done with their finals/exams/classes/whatever. To the rest of you still in school, I laugh at your misery. =)

Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeview!


	79. Chapter 79

_**Seventy – Nine – The Ministry of Magic; The Hearing; The Woes of Mrs. Weasley; Luna Lovegood**_

"Well, it's nice to see you all back here again," Dumbledore said to his Heads of House, gathered together in the staff room.

"The nerve!" Sprout, who had been hidden behind a copy of _The Daily Prophet, _suddenly exclaimed. She wadded the paper up and threw it off to the side. "How can you let them print such nonsense, Albus?"

"Oh, how I've missed your rages, Pomona," Dumbledore said good naturedly.

"I'm serious!" Sprout pressed on.

"Much as I'd like to fill you in on what's been happening on this side of the pond over the summer, Pomona, I'm afraid we have business to take care of and I have a very important hearing to attend this afternoon."

McGonagall huffed unhappily.

"And whose hearing is this? I thought you were booted from the W – "

"Potter's," Snape said simply.

Sprout merely gaped for a moment. "What do you mean, _Potter's_? What's happened? How much have I missed? Why didn't anyone tell me? For heaven's sake – "

"Merlin's beard, Pomona! I'll tell you everything you want to know later if you'll just shut up now," McGonagall said tiredly.

"Did you know about this, Filius?" Sprout asked the tiny charms professor.

"I came back three days ago, Pomona. I've been filled in," Flitwick answered.

"Well excuse me for only coming back a few hours ago," said Sprout sarcastically. "I'm not having any part in this meeting until you tell me what's happened!"

"Message for you in your office, Dumbledore," said the familiar face of a previous headmaster as he suddenly appeared in a frame that was not his.

"Thank you, Marcus," said Dumbledore. He turned his back on the former headmaster to continue the meeting.

"It's urgent," said Marcus the headmaster.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, and he left the room for his office.

McGonagall and Snape exchanged a very quick glance before Sprout set in on them.

"Out with it!" Sprout demanded.

"Potter and his cousin were attacked by dementors a few weeks ago," McGonagall said dully. "No, we do not know why there were dementors in Little Whinging. Yes, Harry and his cousin escaped unharmed. Yes, Harry used a Patronus. And yes, he's now got to go through a hearing which Fudge has decided will determine whether Harry is permitted to return to Hogwarts."

Sprout opened and closed her mouth several times before finally managing to make noise. "Well surely there's not much of a case at all!"

"None," Flitwick answered. "I was doing some reading last night over the subject. There's simply no way that the Ministry, if they abide by their own laws, can expel Harry. But Fudge will have what he wants."

"Despicable!" Sprout declared.

"Are you truly surprised, Pomona?" Snape asked in his normal drone. "The Minister of Magic has been blatantly neglecting his duties to the public all summer."

Before Sprout could make a reply, Dumbledore reentered.

"I'm afraid this meeting will have to be postponed," he announced.

"Why?" McGonagall asked suspiciously.

"Harry's hearing began five minutes ago in courtroom ten," Dumbledore said unpleasantly. "Minerva, I'll be picking up Arabella on the way. I need you to go up to my office and manage any messages that come for me." He left without another word.

"Of all the nerve in the world!" McGonagall vented. "Three hours early, with no notice? And courtroom ten! The ridiculousness!" She exited, still muttering madly to herself.

"I thought this was supposed to be a hearing," Sprout said slowly. "Why is it taking place in a courtroom large enough to fit the entire Wizengamot?"

"The Minister of Magic likely wants as many people to be present as possible when he expels Harry," said Flitwick in a very dark voice.

"Well," Sprout said haughtily, "he's made a double-edged sword for himself. Now just as many people will be present when Dumbledore shows him up!"

"If Dumbledore's wise, he won't upset Fudge any further than he has already," Snape said unhappily before leaving.

* * *

><p>Far sooner than McGonagall anticipated, Dumbledore entered his office. "Well?" she asked eagerly.<p>

"Cleared of all charges," said Dumbledore.

"What a relief!" McGonagall sighed. She sat down in the chair across Dumbledore's desk. "Go on. Tell me every detail. I want to be able to see the look on Fudge's face when Harry was cleared."

"While I succeeded in clearing Harry, I fear I may have done more damage than I anticipated," Dumbledore admitted.

The smile McGonagall had been wearing slid off her face in an instant. "Albus…"

"I fear I may have challenged Cornelius by informing him that he did not have the authority to bring in what Harry does at Hogwarts into the hearing," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, lowering himself into his chair.

"And we still can't find a defense teacher," McGonagall said lowly. "Albus, we both know that if we can't find someone Fudge will find a way to stick his nose in!"

"I know, I know," Dumbledore said, rubbing his face.

McGonagall sighed heavily. "What other damage has been done?"

"Time will tell," Dumbledore said heavily.

"Was the Wizengamot present?" McGonagall asked, her eyes narrowed.

"Every last member," Dumbledore replied.

"Did Fudge give a reason for summoning them?"

"No."

"Well I hope they had the sense to feel ashamed for answering the summons to judge a case of underage magic!" McGonagall said with a slight snort.

"I may have aided them in feeling ashamed," Dumbledore admitted.

McGonagall's brows drew together, then relaxed as she thought further. "Well at least that shows they still listen to what you say, even after the whole spiel that got you booted from the Wizengamot."

"I'm still on the Chocolate Frog cards," Dumbledore said with the shadow of a smile.

"And that's all you care about, I know," McGonagall said exasperatedly.

"Well, we best go give the good news to Pomona, Filius, and Severus!" Dumbledore said cheerily, rising from his seat.

"I think our idea of 'good news' differs greatly from Severus's," McGonagall said, smirking slightly.

* * *

><p>Weeks later, just a few days before term was to start, McGonagall stood in the owlery, fumbling to tie a package to an owl.<p>

Just as McGonagall had been about to finish the knot on the owl, Sprout burst into the owlery. McGonagall started and dropped the package on the disgusting owlery floor.

"Very poor timing, Pomona!" she burst, snatching up the box off the floor and quickly cleaning it with her wand. "What is it?"

"You haven't read today's _Prophet_ yet, have you?" Sprout asked though a tight jaw.

"No," McGonagall replied. "I've suddenly remembered several things I've managed to put off until last minute. Much as I like keeping tabs on what lies _The Prophet_ prints, I had intended on skipping today's issue."

"Oh, well you'd have missed out on quite the interesting article," Sprout huffed. "Fudge's gone and passed a bill saying he can appoint staff to Hogwarts if the Headmaster can't find someone!"

McGonagall dropped her package again, but did not bother to pick it up. The owl she had been struggling with hooted in an annoyed fashion and flew away.

"Pomona, that's the cruelest joke I've ever heard in my life!"

"Would I be so upset if I were joking?" Sprout asked.

McGonagall swore and ran out of the owlery.

"I gather you've heard about the new law Cornelius put into place?" Dumbledore asked from behind a copy of _The Prophet_ as his deputy burst into his office.

"Tell me you've miraculously found someone," McGonagall desperately requested.

Dumbledore lowered his paper to reveal his face, upon which was a very somber expression.

McGonagall fell into her usual chair. "How much more time do we have?" she asked after a moment.

Dumbledore made no reply at all. He failed even to move.

McGonagall shut her eyes and breathed deeply. "Alright, who's he assigned?"

"Dolores Umbridge," Dumbledore said quietly.

McGonagall's eyes flew open, then she shook her head. "I'm sorry, I thought I heard you say that Dolores Umbridge would be invading the castle this year!"

"Minerva," Dumbledore sighed.

McGonagall covered her face and fell back in her chair. "Of all the people in all the world, _why_ did he have to assign that – "

"You need to send out booklists," Dumbledore said, cutting his deputy off.

"I've got to be having a nightmare," McGonagall said, still speaking through her hands.

"Minerva, booklists. Now. We've held off on them long enough," Dumbledore said sternly. "I believe Dolores has, by now, sent you the books she will require for the students."

McGonagall rose and exited the office in a daze. She was greeted by a few of her colleagues as she made her way to her office. Rather than responding with the usual salutations, she automatically informed them that Dolores Umbridge had been appointed Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, leaving each of them frozen in the corridor.

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

* * *

><p>What are we going to do? What will we do?<p>

_Calm down, Pomona!_

Don't you tell me to calm down when the spawn of the devil is going to be "teaching" here!

_I'm sure we'll manage._

Oh, I'll manage. I'll manage to turn that cow into the toad she looks like!

Calm yourself, Pomona.

How can this happen? Was there really NO ONE else?

The generally feeling of the public isn't much in favor of the staff of Hogwarts at the moment, Pomona.

For heaven's sake! We could have picked up someone selling black market potion supplies and it'd be a better pick than DOLORES UMBRIDGE!

_Believe it or not, we considered that option briefly. _

AND WHY DID YOU NOT TAKE IT?!

Pomona!

WHAT?!

Take a few deep breaths, please.

_So how are we to deal with this new situation we face, Albus?_

As you see fit, Filius.

_**You can't leave it at that, Dumbledore, or Minerva and Pomona will arrange for Madame Umbridge to fall down a flight of stairs before the first week of term is out.**_

_Hush, Severus!_

_**Would you like to worsen our relations with the Ministry, Minerva?**_

_Since when do you care about our relations with the Ministry, Severus?_

Enough.

_But – _

Dolores will be arriving tomorrow morning. She will be a member of staff at Hogwarts for the foreseeable future and there is nothing more to say on the matter.

You're not going to give her a Notebook, are you, Albus?

She will be a member of the Hogwarts staff, Pomona.

No! We don't even get this one solace?

_Does this mean you expect us to be polite, Albus?_

I expect you to treat her as you would any of your other colleagues.

_The problem is that I wouldn't want to witness any of my other colleagues being torn apart limb from limb by an – _

That's ENOUGH.

_Fine! I'll do my best to control myself. But if she says ONE thing about – _

Minerva…

_Oh, come on! Can't we just "accidentally" put some sort of poison in her goblet? Not enough to kill her, but enough to make her sick so that she won't be able to return for the term. Crazy accidents like that happen all the time here at Hogwarts!_

I have given you my expectations and I fully anticipate them to be lived up to. That is my final word. Now, you all have classes to prepare for. I shall see you for dinner.

This is it. This is the year I'm finally going to snap and end up getting chucked into Azkaban.

_Not if I beat you to it!_

_Let's try to be optimistic!_

Filius, are you about to make me throw up?

_There's always the chance that if we're kind enough, Dolores will reconsider her current views. Perhaps we can get her to see sense!_

Yep. Definitely just threw up.

_**Happy as that thought may seem, Filius, I most sincerely doubt there's even an ounce of sense in Dolores Umbridge's entire being.**_

_Did Severus just use the word "happy?"_

I think he did.

_Ah, a sense of normality!_

_What's normal about Severus saying "happy?"_

_I've got work to do. I'll see you all for dinner._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Um... I have no excuse for not updating. You may commence yelling at me. -grabs blankie and hides in corner-

Even though I'm a horrible, awful, mean author that doesn't update for a month, leave a review?


	80. Chapter 80

_**Eighty – The Sorting Hat's New Song; Professor Umbridge**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Umbridge**

* * *

><p>Well the feast was absolutely –<p>

_Delicious! That's the word you're looking for, Pomona, I think._

Not at all.

**What word were you looking for then, Professor Sprout?**

I'll settle for informative. The feast was informative.

**Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't the Sorting Hat acting abnormal?**

_Yes._

_No!_

**Well which is it?**

_The Hat – _

Has been known to attempt to warn the school when it senses danger.

**What danger could it possibly sense?**

You kn –

What danger the Hat senses, I do not know. What danger others sense, I have made clear.

**Ah. Well, I've letters to write. I just thought I'd check in with my new coworkers before the end of the night. Good night!**

Good night, Dolores.

…

_Pomona?_

I can see she's closed her book. It's so terribly convenient that I can see her office from mine.

_It could come to bite you in the backside._

I'm a level above her. I can see her, she can't see me.

_Why did you lie, Filius?_

_What?_

_When she asked if the Hat was acting strange, you said no!_

_Half-truth. Not a lie._

_Nuance. Why?_

_I don't see any point in starting things off on a bad note!_

"_Progress for progress's sake must be discouraged." Yes, Filius. We've definitely started on a good note._

_No point in making it worse._

We make it worse by breathing, Filius. I'm sure if Fudge could have his way we'd all have our bags packed and be applying to the Salem Institute, Beauxbatons, or, heaven forbid, Durmstrang.

_You are missing the point, Pomona!_

You treat her however you'd like, Filius! I cannot bring myself to even pretend to respect her!

You must try, Pomona.

That's easy for you to say. You're stuck up in your office all day.

I'm quite certain Dolores will make frequent stops to my office. I rather look forward to them.

You're kidding.

_Know thy enemy, Pomona._

Oh, I suppose you'll be chummy with her too, then?

_Absolutely not. It's Albus's job to play politician._

You ought to learn the art, Minerva.

_On my mother's grave, I will n – _

You're about to make a very serious oath, Minerva, one that, as the future Head of Hogwarts, you cannot be sure that you will keep.

_Infuriating old man._

What say you to all this, Severus?

_**Dolores's speech at the feast confirmed everything we had previously thought. What more is there to say?**_

You could say that you've got a p –

Pomona…

Oh! I've got a new idea! We can use polyjuice, then commit some dastardly crime incognito and –

_Pomona, you're getting to the point of truly ridiculous._

Well seeing as we can't go straight for the throat…

_Much as I'd like to see her gone, I'm not going to start slinking around to try to get rid of her. She's already doing that to us. I will not sink to her level._

Minerva, don't leave me alone in this!

Pomona, your loyalty is to this school, and this school needs you. You will do everything in your power that is legal and moral to remain in your position and stay in good standing with the general public!

Damn guilt trip.

_**Silly Hufflepuff, falling for a ploy on loyalty.**_

Shut it, Severus!

* * *

><p>McGonagall had hardly slept. Umbridge's speech had flown through her mind so many times that she could very nearly recite it word for word, and terrible scenarios kept bounding around her head, refusing to allow her to relax. So it was that, the next morning, she sat in her office with her head propped up on her arm, reading the same letter over and over again without actually absorbing the content at all.<p>

A knock on the door aroused McGonagall from her sleepy stupor and she rose to see who had come to her office. "Mr. Finnigan," she greeted, trying not to sound surprised. She could not recall Seamus ever coming to her office for a one-on-one meeting before. "Come in." She gestured for him to sit, then took her own seat behind her desk.

"Have a good summer, Professor?" Seamus asked awkwardly. By the look on his face, McGonagall supposed he was second-guessing his decision to come see her.

"My summer was hardly any worse or better than any other staff member's," McGonagall vaguely answered. "What's brought you here, Finnigan?"

"I – I'd like a room change, Professor," he half-mumbled.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Might I ask why?" she asked incredulously, a bad feeling beginning to stir.

Seamus muttered something entirely incomprehensible.

"Finnigan, you're speaking to me, not to your shoes," McGonagall snapped.

Seamus continued to look at his shoes a moment longer before raising his face, upon which he now wore a determined expression. "I don't believe the things Potter's saying, Professor. I think he's gone mad. I don't want to room with a madman."

Anger seared through McGonagall's entire being, but she quickly reined herself in to the best of her ability, though she could feel her nostrils were flared and her lips were incredibly taunt.

"Mr. Finnigan, you and Mr. Potter have gotten along very well in the past years," McGonagall bit out. "I firmly believe you two will work out your differences in some way, shape, or form, without causing problems. Should you, however, deem it truly necessary to remove yourself from the fifth year boys' room, I will make arrangements for you to join the first years' dormitory. Do you have any further questions?"

Seamus was pale with repressed anger. "No ma'am," he said stiffly. He rose and left with his hands curled into fists.

McGonagall threw off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose.

* * *

><p>"Pomona!" McGonagall said in surprise, entering an old classroom – conveniently next to her own office – in which teachers would frequently vent their various rages. Through the years, broken items had accumulated which, when asked about, the staff would attribute to Peeves. "What are you doing here in the middle of the day? You should be out in the greenhouses!"<p>

Sprout stood in front of a set of burning curtains, her wand clenched in her hand. "It's hardly been forty eight hours and already that accursed woman is poisoning our students' minds!"

McGonagall frowned. "What have you heard?"

"I had some first years come through my class talking about how they thought they were _supposed_ to practice spells in Defense!"

McGonagall drew her brows together. "That's not terribly surprising for first years, I suppose."

"But is it surprising for fourth years?" Sprout challenged.

"Fourth years aren't allowed either?"

"Evidently not!"

McGonagall's nostrils flared dangerously. "What does she think? That we'd really train up an army of underage witches and wizards? What about the fifth years? What about the seventh years? Their exams!"

"I haven't heard from either class, but I wouldn't expect a different story."

McGonagall breathed deeply. "It must just be a phase," she attempted to reason. "She can't _really_ expect – "

Flitwick suddenly burst into the room with his wand out. "Oh," he said with moderate surprise.

"Has she finally gotten into your head?" Sprout asked.

"If you're referring to Dolores, no," Flitwick answered calmly. "I merely smelled the smoke and thought Peeves might have visited this room. Shouldn't you be out in the greenhouses, Pomona?"

"An entity much worse than Peeves set _those_ ablaze," McGonagall said, gesturing to the still-burning curtains.

Flitwick sighed. "Well, the smell's going to attract attention." He raised his wand to extinguish the flames. With another twitch, the window flew open to vent the room. "Really, Pomona, I thought you had your fourth years now!"

"I thought it would be appropriate for them to write a paper over the Venemous Tentacula after Bailey decided to try sneaking up on it," Sprout said unhappily.

"Idiot child!" McGonagall spat out. "Why do we even have one of those demonic creatures?"

"I sent them off to the library," Sprout finished her explanation. She ignored McGonagall all together. "Shouldn't _you_ be teaching at the moment? Both of you?"

"On break," McGonagall and Flitwick replied at the same time.

"How convenient," Sprout sulked.

"_**Oh, most think he's barking, the Potty wee lad," **_sang the faint voice of Peeves.

"Is that Potter he's having a go at?" Sprout asked.

"Potter'd better hope not," McGonagall said through her teeth. "I know for a fact that he ought to be in class. Pomona, pull!"

On command, Sprout threw an old crystal ball up in the air. In the blink of an eye, McGonagall drew her wand and blasted the ball to pieces. At the same time, Flitwick raised his own wand and created a shield around him, not allowing any broken glass within a two-foot radius of himself.

"**SHUT UP!"** McGonagall easily heard Harry bellow. With one final deep breath, she slipped through a door adjoining the old classroom with her own office, then stepped from her office into the corridor.

"**What on **_**earth**_** are you shouting about, Potter? Why aren't you in class?" **McGonagall asked as Peeves flew away happily, believing to have gotten Harry in trouble.

"**I've been sent to see you," said Harry stiffly.**

McGonagall felt her chest tighten slightly. **"Sent? What do you mean, sent?" **As a response, Harry held out a pink note. McGonagall quickly took it, opened it with her wand, and read at a furious pace. By the time she had finished the note, she was completely uncertain as to whether she would like to praise or punish Harry. After taking half a second to consider, McGonagall brought Harry into her office to begin questioning him.

"**Well?" **she said, turning on Harry with the most serious face she could muster. **"Is this true?"**

"**Is what true?" **Harry asked, bordering on rude with his tone. McGonagall had been about to chastise him when he realized his mistake and added, **"Professor?"**

"**Is it true that you shouted at Professor Umbridge?" **McGonagall asked.

"**Yes," **Harry replied unabashedly.

"**You called her a liar?"**

"**Yes."**

"**You told her He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?"**

"**Yes."**

McGonagall finally sat down at her desk, still indecisive as to her course of action. If she were to be completely honest, she wanted to give Harry at least a hundred House points and send him on his way. To encourage his behavior, however, would practically be signing his demand for suspension or expulsion.

After frowning at Harry momentarily, McGonagall made up her mind. **"Have a biscuit, Potter," **she said finally.

"**Have – what?" **Harry asked confusedly.

"**Have a biscuit," **McGonagall repeated, determined not to make the entire ordeal a loss. **"And sit down," **she demanded.

Harry sat, still looking just as confused, and took one of the Ginger Newts McGonagall had sitting on her desk.

McGonagall took advantage of Harry's slight distraction to put her words in order. Finally, she opened her mouth and voiced her concern. **"Potter, you need to be careful." **Harry very nearly choked while swallowing a large mouthful of Newt. **"Misbehavior in Dolores Umbridge's class could cost you much more than House points and a detention."**

"**What do you - ?" **Harry began.

McGonagall cut across Harry impatiently. **"Potter, use your common sense," **she bit out. **"You know where she comes from, you must know to whom she is reporting." **McGonagall pronounced her words very clearly and heavily. Before Harry could reply, however, the bell rang and the sound of students flooding the hall made its way into the office. The professor carried on, **"It says here she's given you detention every evening this week, starting tomorrow."**

"**Every evening this week!" Harry repeated, horrified. "But, Professor, couldn't you - ?**

"**No, I couldn't," **McGonagall said before she could change her mind. Much as she did not want Harry around Umbridge, she knew Harry had to learn to keep his trap shut around the toad.

"**But – "**

"**She is your teacher and has every right to give you detention," **McGonagall said, disgusted with the words that were coming out of her mouth. **"You will go to her room at five o'clock tomorrow for the first one. Just remember: Tread carefully around Dolores Umbridge."**

"**But I was telling the truth!" **Harry burst angrily. **"Voldemort's back, you know he is, Professor Dumbledore knows he is – "**

"**For heaven's sake, Potter!" **McGonagall snapped while fixing her glasses from flinching. **"Do you really think this is about truth or lies? It's about keeping your head down and your temper under control!" **She rose from her chair without realizing it. **"Have another biscuit," **she demanded.

"**No, thanks," said Harry coldly. **

"**Don't be ridiculous."**

Harry took one begrudgingly and offered the expected thanks.

"**Didn't you listen to Dolores Umbridge's speech at the start-of-term feast, Potter?" **McGonagall queried, feeling she knew the answer.

"**Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah… she said… progress will be prohibited or… well, it meant that… that the Ministry of Magic is trying to interfere at Hogwarts."**

McGonagall looked Harry over incredulously, then sniffed in agitation and went over to her door and opened it. **"Well, I'm glad you listen to Hermione Granger at any rate," she said, pointing [Harry] out of her office.**

The instant after she had closed the door behind Harry, McGonagall flew over to her desk and ripped open her notebook.

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Umbridge**

* * *

><p><em>Albus!<em>

I know.

_How could you possibly know?_

**I just sent him a message. I have to wonder what your hurry in informing the headmaster of Mr. Potter's detention is, Minerva.**

_I was actually going to inform Albus of the fact that the girl's bathroom on the second floor is flooded, Dolores. Why should I concern the headmaster with a student's detention?_

**Why indeed. Don't you have a class starting in just a moment, Minerva?**

_I can manage my own schedule, Dolores, thank you._

* * *

><p><strong>+++In the middle of class++++<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Albus, I'm going to lose my mind!<em>

I do so hope that you did not encourage Harry, Minerva.

_I'm not an idiot, Albus, whatever Umrbidge might imply._

I would never dream of calling you an idiot.

_If she gives out a week of detention every time someone backs up the truth, then half the students here won't ever have time to do homework!_

I firmly believe that Harry is our biggest concern in that department, and Miss Granger will keep him in check, now that she knows what to look for.

_Even Hermione's got her breaking point, Albus._

Yes, but Miss Granger's is much farther from the starting point than Harry's.

_You don't think Umbridge can get to that point?_

I think you had better focus on your class, Minerva.

_Infuriating old man._

Yes, yes. I know. Now please, do what you're paid to and teach your students.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Ha! It hasn't even been two weeks yet since the last update. I win.

Everybody buckle up! This year at Hogwarts is going to be a bumpy ride!

Reeeeeeeeeeeeview!


	81. Chapter 81

_**Eighty-One – Professor Umbridge; Detention with Dolores; Percy and Padfoot**_

McGonagall stomped up the stairs leading to Dumbledore's office, still in a foul mood from receiving knowledge of Harry's bout with Umbridge. She entered the office without knocking and felt quite surprised to see three house elves talking with Dumbledore.

"The childrens leave many things out sir, yes," said one of the elves.

"Then I'm afraid I fail to understand why you're so distraught over a pair of hats," Dumbledore admitted.

"Tis not the season for hats, sir," said another elf unhappily.

"We's is thinking they was left out on purpose, sir!" said the first elf.

"Many elves thinks they is being tricked, Professor Dumbledore," said the third elf, whom McGonagall recognized as Dobby.

"Tricked into what?" Dumbledore asked, his fingers connected at the tips.

"Release from Hogwarts, sir!" squealed the second elf in dismay.

"Calm yourself, Slooky," Dumbledore said. "I will not, nor will any future headmaster, force you to leave Hogwarts."

"But yous would give us pay, sir!" said the first elf, shooting a disgusted look at Dobby, who was proudly wearing socks and what appeared to be a very poorly knitted hat.

"I've no wish to insult you," Dumbledore stated. "If the clothes continue to appear, I shall address the situation. As for now, however, it is possible that the hats somehow wound up in the common room while someone was still getting settled in. I'm sure it's nothing to be concerned about."

"Yes, sir," said the elves. The lot of them bowed and turned to leave. Upon seeing McGonagall, the first two greeted her politely and bowed.

"Professor McGonagall!" Dobby said happily. "You is looking very well!"

"Thank you, Dobby," McGonagall responded cordially. "I see you've found some new clothes since we last spoke." She opted to ignore the former two elves' looks of disgust.

Dobby smiled widely, bade McGonagall and Dumbledore a good night, and left with his fellow elves.

"It's been a while since I've seen house elves up here," McGonagall commented.

"I believe Miss Granger is elevating her efforts with S.P.E.W.," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

McGonagall felt her nostrils flare. "That group she attempted to start to free elves? Why?"

"The elves found a pair of, admittedly, rather poorly knitted hats in Gryffindor common room tonight. Slooky said it looked as though someone had tried to hide them. The elves are beginning to think someone's trying to trick them into freedom."

McGonagall knitted her brows together. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought that only the headmaster and the head of Hufflepuff had the authority to dismiss elves."

"That is true, though little known," Dumbledore said, pulling out his well-used chessboard. "It's the principle of the matter, I believe, that is upsetting the poor creatures."

"Well," McGonagall said as she began setting up her pieces, "if it is Granger, I think Weasley knows the elves well enough to know they don't want to leave. She'll have to think up some other strategy before long."

"The elves have already threatened to stop cleaning Gryffindor if the articles of clothing continue to appear," Dumbledore said, looking at his deputy over his glasses.

"Over two hats?" McGonagall asked.

"Ridiculous as it may seem to you and me, yes."

"Well we both know that I'm no good at housekeeping, so if you've any intention of handing the duty over to me, you're sorely mistaken," McGonagall said smartly.

"Entertaining as I believe your speeches about the amount of things left lying about the Gryffindor common room would be, Minerva, I had no intention of giving you such a task," Dumbledore said as he made his first move on the chess board.

"Good, because I'd likely end up throwing everything into the fire," McGonagall said nonchalantly. "Who do you intend on throwing the responsibility off to, then?"

"Dobby, certainly," Dumbledore replied, "and Winky, if she was willing."

"That poor creature," McGonagall said with a sigh. "Has she been drinking any less?"

"I don't think so," Dumbledore said heavily. "I've asked Dobby to keep an eye on her. With time, I think she'll come to deal with her present situation."

A knock sounded.

"Expecting someone?" McGonagall queried. "I'd hate to think you scheduled an appointment over our chess game."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Minerva," Dumbledore said. In a louder voice, he invited whoever had knocked to enter.

As Umbridge stepped into the office, McGonagall felt her blood pressure shoot up.

"Ah, Dolores! How can I be of help to you?" Dumbledore asked.

"I'm afraid I've some rather important things to discuss with you, Headmaster," Umbridge said in her sickeningly sweet voice.

"Very well. Minerva, shall we continue at a later time?" Dumbledore asked, looking at his deputy.

McGonagall bit back a witty comment and looked at a clock on the wall. "Considering the time, Albus, I think it best we postpone our game until tomorrow evening." She rose and left quickly before Umbridge could say anything to her.

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Umbridge**

* * *

><p>Severus, how is it possible that Slytherin's already at least a hundred points in the lead for the House Cup?<p>

_**I've hardly given or taken any points in the past twenty-four hours, Pomona. Would you care to accuse me of anything else? Get it all done and over with at once?**_

Well, since you've opened up that can of flobberworms –

_Now, really!_

Shut it, Filius.

_Just because you've had a bad day doesn't mean you can take it out on Severus, Pomona._

_Course it does! Would Severus do any differently?_

_**Shouldn't you be playing chess about now, Minerva?**_

_The game was interrupted by a certain person with remarkably amphibious features._

_**How terribly disappointing.**_

_Now you've officially asked for it._

_**You did first, I believe. **_

_I demand a duel!_

Whoah! Let's not be quite THAT short tempered!

_Agreed. Heaven's sake, are you really that tightly wound?_

_Considering Potter's already up to his elbows in trouble with Dolores? Yes, Filius. Yes, I am that tightly wound._

_**And you expected something different, because?**_

_Shut your mouth, Severus._

_**My mouth is shut. Oddly enough, when I write I typically use a quill.**_

_Merlin's beard! There are days when I wish I could still take points from you and put you in detention for being such a smart mouth!_

_**Smart hand, in this case, actually. **_

I think your avenues for lashing out at him have actually widened now, Minerva.

_Very true, Pomona._

_**As have mine. Let's not forget that point.**_

Let's return to the subject that is so vexing Minerva.

_No._

What's Potter done to earn him an entire week of detention?

_Shouldn't you be a bit concerned as to the privacy of this conversation, Pomona?_

_Dolores just went into Dumbledore's office with a bag full of parchment. I don't think she'll be looking in on us anytime soon._

Ha, Filius. Come on, Minerva. Out with it.

_Potter snapped. He started shouting about the end of last year, called Dolores a liar, insisted history was repeating itself, so on and so forth._

So, essentially, he did exactly what we all want to do.

_In summation, yes._

_You didn't encourage him, did you, Minerva?_

_Why do you and Dumbledore seem to think me that thick?_

_**Perhaps because you are.**_

_Haven't I told you to shut up, Severus?_

_**Don't challenge me, Minerva. I'm entirely confident I could annoy you just as much, if not more, nonverbally. **_

What do you think she'll have him do?

_I don't think he'll be doing anything. I think she'll just slowly demolish his soul._

Much like Severus would, if he could.

_**Contrary to what you appear to believe, Pomona, I am not at all in agreement with Dolores.**_

So you've a problem with her disciplining Harry for telling the truth?

_**Disciplining him, I've no problem with. I would prefer it if she were after him for some other reason, but I suppose I'll take what I can get.**_

You're a sick man, Severus.

_Pomona, I think you ought to go scream into a pillow or something._

I'm perfectly fine, Filius, thank you.

_**Quite frankly, I think that if she really wanted to upset him, or to attempt to conform his remarkably thick head to her ideals, she'd have him rewriting Prophet articles from over the summer.**_

_Merlin's beard, I hope not. That'd set him off again and he'd never leave detention._

That may just be her ultimate goal.

Might I suggest you all go to bed? Immediately?

_Done already?_

Just finished.

_That was much faster than I expected._

Very good to know. Good night!

* * *

><p>The following night, well after midnight, McGonagall entered the staffroom. She yawned as she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down in her favorite chair. After two hours of tossing and turning, she had given up on sleep. She had no grading, as classes had only begun, and had caught up on any and all paperwork in the previous nights. A good night's sleep, McGonagall was coming to realize, would be a very rare commodity for her in the coming year.<p>

McGonagall looked at the table before her to see that Sprout had left her _Herbology Herald _out. She picked up the magazine and opened it to the first article to find the margins filled with red markings. "Publishers making more mistakes than usual this month, Pomona?" she asked with a small chuckle. She settled in to begin reading articles, plus their corrections.

"You couldn't sleep either," said Grubbly-Plank, entering the staffroom.

"Must've had too much coffee during the day," McGonagall lied.

"So you've decided to continue the trend?" asked Grubbly-Plank, nodding to McGonagall's cup.

"What's your excuse, Wilhelmina?" McGonagall queried.

"Intermittent insomnia's kicking in," Grubbly-Plank answered. "Drives my husband crazy. He'll be glad to hear he's missing a bout of it." She sat down opposite McGonagall with her own cup of coffee.

"Light sleeper?" McGonagall asked.

"Very," Grubbly-Plank sighed. "I so much as turn over and he wakes up."

"Impressive," McGonagall commented absentmindedly, beginning to devote more of her attention to Sprout's abandoned magazine.

"Where's Hagrid, Minerva?"

McGonagall found herself incredibly grateful she had not had her cup of hot coffee in her hand, as she was sure she would have spilt it. She looked up from the article. "He's out travelling. I thought Albus told you that?"

"Well, he did. But it doesn't seem like Hagrid not to make it back to Hogwarts in time for the beginning of the term," Grubbly-Plank reasoned.

McGonagall shrugged, trying her best to look unconcerned. "Must be doing some soul-searching. All Albus told me was that he'd be gone for a bit."

Grubbly-Plank snorted amusedly. "You can't ask me to believe that Dumbledore didn't tell _you_ more than that."

"There's nothing more to tell," McGonagall said, trying once again to devote her attention to the magazine in her hand.

"Well, you'd better figure out something, and fast. Rumors are starting to spread. Just today, Potter asked me where he was."

McGonagall looked up once more, her eyes narrowed in displeasure. "And what did you tell him?"

"Told him that it wasn't any of his business," Grubbly-Plank answered indifferently. "Why's he so concerned about Hagrid?"

"A very good question," said a new voice.

McGonagall's head snapped towards Umbridge's voice so quickly her neck popped. "Dolores! What on earth are you doing here?"

"This is the staffroom. I am a member of the Hogwarts staff, am I not?" asked Umbridge, standing up from a chair in the very back corner of the staffroom, which torchlight did not readily reach.

"You are," McGonagall said through her teeth.

"Well then I think I hardly need to explain my presence," Umbridge continued. "I must confess I'm very intrigued to know the answer to Professor Grubbly-Plank's question."

McGonagall and Grubbly-Plank exchanged glances for a fraction of a second, the latter somehow conveying an apology in that time frame.

"Hagrid gave Potter the news that he was a wizard," McGonagall said. "He took Potter to Diagon Ally to get his supplies before his first year. The boy developed a certain liking and concern for the man, quite understandably."

Umbridge looked thoroughly confused. "Dumbledore sent Hagrid to get Mr. Potter?" she asked. "That's quite an unusual thing to do."

"Harry's guardians did not want him to go to Hogwarts," McGonagall said, her knuckles turning white on her coffee mug. "We tried sending letters, but Potter was prevented from reading them. Eventually, we had to send someone to him."

"So Professor Dumbledore elected to send the half-giant gamekeeper out to go collect a student from a Muggle family?"

"It would have been inappropriate to send a teacher to collect Mr. Potter. We couldn't send Mr. Filch, and Madame Pomfrey was travelling at the time. Hagrid was only gamekeeper at the time, and he was willing, so he was sent!" McGonagall snapped. "This, I believe, was common knowledge amongst Ministry employees. Perhaps if you'd paid more attention you would have known."

Umbridge smiled at McGonagall for a moment, then left the staffroom.

"Minerva, I'm so sorry," Grubbly-Plank said half a minute after the door closed. "If – "

McGonagall held up a hand. "It's not your fault. I didn't know she was in here, either."

"Why wouldn't she greet us, or something?" Grubbly-Plank asked.

McGonagall looked at her companion incredulously.

"I'm trying to keep a positive outlook here, Minerva," Grubbly-Plank said in defense of herself.

"You're able to say that only because you're here temporarily," McGonagall sighed. "Thank you for letting me know about Potter's curiosity, Wilhelmina," she said as she rose from her chair and headed to the door.

"Leaving me here all by myself?" Grubbly-Plank asked.

"It smells like Dolores's perfume in here, now," McGonagall said in explanation, then left.

Grubbly-Plank inhaled deeply a few times before frowning and exiting the room, herself.

* * *

><p>Saturday afternoon rolled along. McGonagall sat in her office, her feet propped up on her desk, more relaxed than she had been in over a week. She had taken her breakfast and lunch in her room, and so had not seen Umbridge all day. McGonagall had even begun to hope she might get a full night's sleep when someone knocked on her door. Sighing in agitation, she hauled her feet from her desk and made her way to her door.<p>

"Miss Granger," she said, slightly surprised.

"Good afternoon, Professor," said Hermione. "Do you mind if I talk to you for a few moments?"

McGonagall allowed Hermione in before taking a seat behind her desk. "What have you come to discuss?" she asked. She suddenly narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You're not thinking of trying to pick up another class in your O.W.L. year?"

Hermione smiled. "I'm not that thick, Professor."

"I should hope not," McGonagall said. "Very well, what is it?"

"Well, it's two separate things, actually," Hermione said. She began to look nervous. "I came on an impulse, actually. I'd been fighting with myself since last night, but since Harry and Ron are down at Quidditch practice – "

"Miss Granger," McGonagall interrupted, "I've had a very relaxing day. Are you trying to tell me that you're about to ruin that?"

Hermione started to wring her hands. "Yes, Professor," she said quietly.

McGonagall sighed. "Alright, let's get this done and over with. What's Potter done now?"

Hermione furrowed her brows. "He hasn't done anything!"

"Miss Granger, tell me what's happened."

"It's his detentions, Professor!"

McGonagall felt her nostrils flare dangerously. "What about them?"

"I – I have to ask that you try to keep this quiet, Professor."

"Granger!"

"Professor Umbridge has had Harry writing lines in his own blood!" Hermione burst, then covered her mouth in regret.

McGonagall leaned forward and looked intently at Hermione.

"He told Ron, not me. He asked Ron not to tell anyone, he doesn't want Umbridge to know she's getting to him, but, Professor, it worries me! She's made him use this special quill to write his lines. The lines appear on the back of his hand. The first night it healed over right away, but now you can _see_ where the words have been carved in! You have to look closely, but there's definitely a scar."

McGonagall felt her pulse quicken. "And Potter asked you to keep this a secret?" she asked as calmly as she could manage.

"Asked Ron to, yes," Hermione said. "I just couldn't keep it quiet, though. It's such an injustice! Harry will take it, and he'll keep quiet, but what about the next person that she gets? Professor, she's got to be stopped!"

"I'll see what I can do, Miss Granger," McGonagall assured, feeling a massive headache coming on. "You said two separate issues. What's this second nail you're adding to my coffin?"

"Harry's scar's been hurting him again, most recently in his detention last night. He's trying to brush it off, but I know that - " she lowered her voice dramatically, " – the Order ought to know."

McGonagall closed her eyes briefly. "Why hasn't he come to me or Professor Dumbledore about this?"

"He says you've both got enough to worry about," Hermione explained.

"We've plenty to worry about, but we do want to know about these things," McGonagall sighed. "Very well, Miss Granger. In accordance to your wishes and Mr. Potter's, I'll handle these matters as quietly as possible."

"Thank you, Professor!" Hermione said earnestly. Her shoulders relaxed a great deal, as if some burden had just been taken from them. She rose from her chair and left the office.

Once sure Hermione would be out of ear range, McGonagall picked up the coffee mug she'd taken from the staffroom the previous night and hurled it at her wall, after which she headed for Dumbledore's office where she recited her conversation with Hermione, word for word.

The light that usually danced in Dumbledore's eyes had gone out completely. "The scar we've been expecting, though it is nice to know when the occurrences happen," he said. "As for Dolores's chosen method of punishment, I've no choice but to confront her."

"I figured as much," McGonagall replied. "I have a nasty feeling that said confrontation will only lead to her gaining more power."

"As do I," Dumbledore admitted. "However, the fact remains that she must be stopped."

As if called by some supernatural signal, Umbridge entered the office without knocking.

"It's a wonder you ever get any work done, Minerva," Umbridge commented in her sugary voice. "I hardly ever find you in your own office!"

McGonagall gritted her teeth, looked at Dumbledore, then back at Umbridge. "Well, you must have important matters to discuss," she said. "I'll leave you to it."

"Actually, I'd prefer you to stay, Minerva," Umbridge said.

Her back toward Umbridge, McGonagall clenched her eyes shut momentarily before turning around. "So be it."

"How can we help you, Dolores?" Dumbledore asked. "I hope you're settling in well?"

McGonagall's eyes flashed at the headmaster. Dumbledore replied to her outrage by shaking his head slightly.

"Very much so," Umbridge replied, digging into her bag. "I do have a few points of concern I wish to deal with, however."

"As do I," said Dumbledore.

"You do?" Umbridge asked genuinely.

"It's been brought to my attention that you've taken to using quite an unorthodox form of punishment for detentions," Dumbledore said rather calmly, though sparks were beginning to fly in his eyes. "I'm afraid I must protest."

Umbridge smiled. "I hardly think cleaning floors or scrubbing graffiti off desks is an adequate punishment for rule breakers, Dumbledore. What lesson do they learn through such methods? If they are going to be in detention, they must _learn_ from their mistakes, so as not to repeat them."

McGonagall's hand began to twitch in want of her wand.

"I quite agree the students must learn from their mistakes, Dolores, but not through bloodshed," Dumbledore argued. "I insist that you find a different approach to detentions, or I'm afraid I'll have to go over your head."

"Is that so?" Umbridge asked unconcernedly.

Before McGonagall even realized it, she had her wand in her hand. As she made to actually do something with it, however, Fawkes swooped down on her and plucked the wand away, taking it back to his perch. The professor looked at Dumbledore furiously, who only shook his head slightly again.

"It's come to _my_ attention, Headmaster," Umbridge began anew, "that relationships less than professional are occurring between the students and staff of this school."

"I beg your pardon?" McGonagall burst furiously.

"I assure you, Dolores, that my staff is professional in all matters concerning this school and its students," Dumbledore stated confidently.

"I've multiple reports of various students visiting staff members at all hours of the day on _social _calls, Professor," Umbridge contradicted.

"And just who are these reports from?" McGonagall asked with a nasty feeling she knew the answer.

"I hardly think it appropriate to reveal my sources," Umbridge said smoothly.

"Dolores, you've hardly been here long enough to know of relationships between students and staff," McGonagall attempted to reason calmly. "We get calls from students at all hours of the day _and night_ for a plethora of reasons. If a student needs help on an assignment, if a fellow is feeling ill, if something strange is going on in the corridors or common rooms, we're called on. The students depend on us, and we make ourselves available."

"I've had no visits from a student since arriving," Umbridge said. "I've made myself as available as the next teacher."

Just as McGonagall was about to snap back, Dumbledore jumped in.

"Give it time, Dolores," Dumbledore said. "I'm sure you'll come to understand the nature of the relationship between staff and student before long."

"If you say so," said Umbridge, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. "If what you say is true, however, I must wonder why students have to visit their teachers so frequently for homework, Minerva."

"I'm afraid I don't understand your point," McGonagall said. She had crossed her arms and was beginning to feel pain from how tightly she was clutching her forearms.

"I'm merely concerned about the way time is spent in lessons."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Are you questioning our teaching methods and capabilities, Dolores?"

"And if I were?" Umbridge asked.

"You would be wasting your time," McGonagall stated. "We are not known as the best school of witchcraft and wizardry simply because we are the oldest. We have this strange habit of turning out the best and brightest witches and wizards," she said sarcastically.

"I'm afraid, Dolores, that I do not share your fears on either of the issues you have come to bring my attention to," Dumbledore said.

"Very well," Umbridge said, rising from her seat. "I shall see you both at dinner, then."

"I'm not going to hold out against her much longer before I snap, Albus," McGonagall hissed after the door had closed.

"Have you read today's _Prophet_, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked, pulling out said paper from his desk.

"No," McGonagall answered. "I was enjoying a rather stress-free day until Granger came to see me. And you're trying to distract me from my point!"

"Sturgis's sentencing was announced today."

McGonagall's eyes snapped on to the paper. "I suppose he's received some absurd sentence?"

"Six months in Azkaban."

"For trespassing?" McGonagall asked in awe.

"They've decided that he was attempting to break and enter, as well," Dumbledore commented.

"Knowing Sturgis Podmore, he wouldn't say a word to them," McGonagall said.

"He didn't," Dumbledore confirmed.

McGonagall sighed.

"Would you like to hear some more bad news?" Dumbledore asked mildly.

"About as much as I'd like to get dragon pox," McGonagall said dully.

"They know Sirius is in London."

"What?" McGonagall burst. "But Kingsley – "

"Kingsley likely had no other option but to publicize the information if he wanted to remain on the case," said Dumbledore. "Apparently, the Ministry received a tip-off from a reliable source."

"Someone recognized him at King's Cross," McGonagall said dismally.

"As we suspected someone might. It is so truly unfortunate that Sirius can't use his animagus form safely."

"Damn Pettigrew to hell," McGonagall snarled.

"I'm sure he's already well under way, Minerva," Dumbledore said assuredly.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

My lovelies, my lovelies. I have updated. We must all celebrate together. I have some cookies. I shall eat them in your honor. :)

In other exciting news, you may now find me, as Alittleinsane963, going "tweet tweet!" from time to time. ;) I look forward to communicating with you more regularly. Also, I highly recommend checking out Fandom4LLS. Pure awesome.

I have appeased you by posting more delightful content. My dears, I formally request a review from you.


	82. Chapter 82

_**Eighty-Two – The Hogwarts High Inquisitor**_

"I've called you all at this late hour as a courtesy," Dumbledore announced to his Heads of House, gathered in his office.

"That's rich," said Sprout with a yawn. "You consider it a courtesy to make me get out of bed at two in the morning?"

"You'll survive, Pomona," said Flitwick sleepily, his head held up by his hand.

McGonagall had not been asleep to begin with, and neither, judging by looks, had Snape. Though both were in their typical sleepwear, neither showed any sign of having been rudely awakened.

"Cornelius has made another step in educational reform," Dumbledore stated.

Flitwick snapped his head up to look at Dumbledore at the same time as Sprout straightened up in her chair.

"What's that pitiful excuse for a minister done now?" Sprout growled.

"Dolores Umbridge," Dumbledore began, "has been named High Inquisitor of Hogwarts. She now has the authority to inspect Hogwarts professors."

"I quit," McGonagall said automatically the instant Dumbledore had finished speaking.

"Whether you're serious or not, the contract you and Madame Bones drew up is quite airtight. I wish you luck in finding a loophole," Dumbledore replied.

"Damn," McGonagall muttered.

"What do you mean, she's got the power to inspect us?" Sprout asked, her eyes narrowed."

"I fail to see need of an explanation, Pomona," Snape said tightly.

"So you're telling me that she can just barge into our classrooms any time she'd like and follow us around?" Sprout spat out.

"She's said she'll be handing out notes giving the times and dates of her inspections," Dumbledore answered.

"How polite of her," McGonagall said sarcastically.

"How in the world could she possibly inspect _everyone_?" Flitwick asked. "I helped make this year's schedule! There's just no way she could make it to all her own classes _and _come to one of each of ours."

"Let's take a moment to remember how long it took students to notice the discrepancies in Miss Granger's timeline her third year," Snape said dully.

"Umbridge can't think us _that_ stupid to believe we wouldn't notice her time travelling," Sprout said.

"I wouldn't put anything past her," McGonagall stated.

"I hardly think I need remind you that the four of you play a large role in setting the tone for the rest of the staff," said Dumbledore. "We are all far from pleased, but I must ask you to continue being patient and polite."

"As a 'teacher' at Hogwarts, I will extend the courtesies to her that you have asked me to, Albus," said McGonagall, "but I cannot, and will not, respect her position of High Inquisitor."

"All I ask is that you _try_, Minerva."

"No," McGonagall answered flatly.

"Who knows how much power she'll be able to gain with this new title?" Flitwick interjected. "She may, eventually, gain control of the school. We cannot give her reason, now or then, to believe removing us from our posts would be a good idea!"

"I agree with Filius," said Snape. "The faster we anger the Ministry, the faster they'll move."

"We've got to cooperate," said Flitwick.

Sprout put her face in her hands.

"Very well," McGonagall said shortly after multiple heavy breaths. "I will make an effort, but I would recommend against high expectations."

"Pomona?" Dumbledore asked.

"Only because you asked me to," said Sprout, lifting her head. "I won't fight the inspection."

"Wonderful!" said Dumbledore cheerfully. "The announcement of Dolores's new position will be in tomorrow's copy of _The Daily Prophet_. I cannot convene a full staff meeting without arousing suspicion. I must, therefore, rely on you to get the news to the rest of the staff before the paper does."

"They've got to be taken by surprise at the article, though," said Flitwick. "Knowing how quickly and quietly news can travel here would upset Dolores more than a staff meeting."

"Quite right, Filius," said Dumbledore. "You must _all_ be 'surprised' at the news tomorrow morning."

"Merlin's beard," said Sprout as she heaved herself out of her chair and headed for the door. "I should have gone into research instead of teaching."

Flitwick and Snape headed for the door as well. McGonagall hung back slightly to exchange a significant look with Dumbledore, then followed her colleagues out of the office.

"I call 'not it' on telling Sybill," said Sprout as the Heads of House quietly made their way through the halls.

"I will inform Sybill," said Flitwick, earning bewildered looks from McGonagall and Sprout. "You two are thin enough on patience as it is!"

"I'll get Poppy, Wilhelmina, and Aurora," McGonagall volunteered. "I'll leave it among you to divide everyone else, shall I?"

"As you've volunteered to take Poppy, I think that's perfectly reasonable," Snape answered.

"Agreed," said Sprout. "I don't envy you." She and the other two staff members quickly divided up the rest of the staff.

Flitwick and Sprout went their separate ways, leaving McGonagall and Snape travelling the same route.

"Are you alright, Severus?" McGonagall asked after a moment.

Snape looked at McGonagall with his brows furrowed.

"You just seem like you're not yourself," McGonagall explained.

"I'm under considerable stress, Minerva," said Snape tightly, "as you very well know. I see no reason to discuss the issue now. Your concern is not necessary."

McGonagall did not seem wholly convinced, but did not push the subject further. She and Snape soon split ways to wake their chosen colleagues.

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Umbridge**

* * *

><p><em>How was your inspection, Filius?<em>

_I don't think I'm permitted to discuss – _

_She's up with Dumbledore now, discussing her observations._

I thought she'd wait until after dinner.

_Apparently, she's busy later in the night._

_If you're certain she won't be around to read this conversation…_

_She inspected Sybill today. Trust me, she'll be up there a while._

_Very well. I was, of course, not pleased with the idea of being inspected, but the experience was a good deal less painful than I expected._

Go on, then.

_She asked if I'd gotten the notification of her inspection, asked me a few questions, then sat quietly._

I can't believe it went that smoothly.

_Did your goblin blood happen to come up?_

_I had been concerned that it might, but it didn't._

_That's quite a relief._

_I very much agree._

I'm disgusted by the fact that we have to worry about such a trifling bit of information.

_Severus, has she gotten to you yet?_

_**She'll be in my first class on Wednesday. However, I've head some things about her inspections today that you may find amusing, Minerva.**_

_Do you mean it'll amuse you by annoying me? Or will it actually amuse me?_

_**I believe it will actually amuse you.**_

_Oh, then do tell. I could do with some entertainment._

_**Several students have come to believe that, if and when Umbridge starts sacking people, Sybill will be the first to go.**_

_I'll admit that Sybill's exit from Hogwarts would hardly cause me pain, but by Dolores's hand? That I just could not be at peace with._

You seem to know all about Sybill's inspection, Severus. Why don't you go on and fill us in?

_**It seems Sybill had just the opposite experience of Filius.**_

_How so?_

_**Dolores might as well have been an owl perched on Sybill's shoulder for how closely she followed her around.**_

_From the beginning of class?_

_**As far as I know.**_

_Well it's nice to know that Dolores goes in to a class with an open mind!_

Wait! Is this Minerva McGonagall DEFENDING Sybill Trelawney?

_**Perhaps we have another imposter?**_

_Shut it, the pair of you! You both know full well that – _

_**Once Dolores is gone you'll return to your former ways of treating Sybill.**_

_I would not and will not resort to regrettable methods to be rid of someone I do not like._

_**Is that why you wanted to poison Dolores?**_

_Pomona's suggestion, not mine!_

_I'm afraid I have to return to a point previously brought up by Severus._

_That point being?_

_Umbridge may, at some point, manage to gain enough power to start chucking us out!_

_I thought we'd already acknowledged this?_

_But, as you made clear, Minerva, Umbridge is NOT going in to these inspections with an open mind. She's already made up her mind about everyone. And that means – _

_She's already got her list made, likely ordered according to level of priority, of who she believes has got to go._

Well if that's true, Filius must be very low on that list.

_And Sybill very high._

_How could she have come to dislike Sybill so much so quickly?_

You? You, of all people, are asking that question?

_**Minerva has a valid point. Sybill stays in the North Tower. Dolores has hardly seen her, much less had a conversation with her.**_

_Which brings us back to my original question._

Am I really going to be the one to suggest that the Ministry has dedicated a significant amount of time into researching our backgrounds?

_Their research wouldn't be able to prove much against Sybill._

Who are you and what on earth have you done to Minerva McGonagall?

_Severus?_

_**I agree. It's concerning.**_

Come on, then! Let's share the secret.

_**A secret, once shared, is no longer a secret.**_

Enough of your philosophies. Out with it!

**Out with what?**

_Minerva, Severus, and Pomona were merely playing a word game, Dolores. Pomona's used up all her guesses and Severus won't tell her the word._

**Interesting… Why don't I have a go?**

_It's about time we head down for dinner, actually._

**I trust, Minerva, that – **

_Really, Dolores. I'm very hungry. I'm sure whatever you've got to discuss with me can wait until later._

**Your inspection – **

_Come on, now, or we'll all be late!_

* * *

><p>"She's got to have something on Sybill, Albus!" McGonagall hissed as she paced Dumbledore's office. Snape stood towards the back of the room and Dumbledore sat calmly at his desk.<p>

"What makes you say that, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked.

McGonagall looked back at Snape, who then regurgitated the information he had gathered about Trelawney's inspection.

"Filius claims he had no difficulties with his _inspection _whatsoever," McGonagall quickly added once Snape had finished.

Dumbledore connected his fingertips. "This comes as little surprise."

"I don't see what information she could have possibly gathered to prompt her treat Sybill so horribly!" McGonagall said shortly.

"You know full well that anyone who claims to be a Seer will come under close scrutiny, and Sybill does have a certain reputation."

"As Minerva pointed out to me on our way up here, Dumbledore, Sybill's got Seer blood in her. That gives her a great deal more credibility than most," Snape pointed out.

"Is it possible that Dolores knows about the prophecy?" McGonagall asked.

Dumbledore knitted his brows together. "I sincerely doubt it. Even we wouldn't know about it unless I had been there to hear it."

"To further calm your mind, Minerva, it seems unlikely that Dolores would have been so keen to unnerve Sybill if she knew that she had made a prophecy," Snape added.

Between Dumbledore's assurances and Snape's, McGonagall relaxed slightly.

"This situation we are discussing arouses a few points that, I think, can only be shared with you," Dumbledore said to the professors.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "I've only just relaxed. Are you going to reverse that happy feeling?"

Dumbledore ignored McGonagall. "We cannot pretend that I do not have a target on my back."

"A rather large one," said Snape tightly.

"Should I be forced to leave the school – we must consider the possibility, Minerva – it will fall upon the pair of you to make sure Sybill does not leave the castle," said Dumbledore seriously.

"Even if Dolores does sack Sybill, she's got no authority to make the poor woman leave Hogwarts," McGonagall pointed out.

"If Dolores has removed Dumbledore by the time she sacks Trelawney, she may very well have that authority," Snape argued.

"Use whatever means necessary to _keep Sybill here_," Dumbledore said clearly.

"Well, if all else fails we can subdue her and send her off to Sirius for safekeeping," McGonagall said coolly, clearly displeased with the conversation she had to endure.

"What a marvelous pair they'd make," said Snape dully.

"Secondly," began Dumbledore, before McGonagall could make a reply, "should I be forced out of the school, you must secure your staying here."

"I won't start polishing her shoes, if that's what you mean by that," McGonagall said smartly.

Dumbledore looked at his deputy unamusedly. "You, Minerva, especially, have to make sure you stay here. Should Harry need someone from the Order, you will likely be his only avenue of communication."

McGonagall sighed heavily, then turned to look at Snape. "I don't suppose you'd like to start building some sort of relationship with the boy?" she asked.

Snape sneered at McGonagall. "I've enough on my plate without babysitting that – "

"Thirdly," Dumbledore interrupted, "Dolores must come to trust a member of the staff."

McGonagall burst out laughing. "Well that certainly won't be me!" she said, pulling a handkerchief out of her pocket and dabbing at her eye.

Snape's lip curled in displeasure. "You can't be serious, Dumbledore."

"It is undeniable, Severus, that you and Mr. Potter do not get along. That fact, for once, may work in your favor."

"Have you considered recently that you ask too much of people?" Snape snarled.

"It's an unavoidable burden when the tasks are many and the people to do them are few," Dumbledore calmly replied. "And Minerva," he said, looking at his still-chuckling deputy, "should I leave, any and all responsibility for assuring the safety of the school will fall on you."

McGonagall sobered almost immediately. Her smile seemed to have travelled to the potions master, as his lips slowly turned upward.

"You just had to kill my brief moment of entertainment, didn't you, Albus?" McGonagall asked sourly.

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Am I about to be called an infuriating old man?" he asked.

"Perhaps it'd be better for Umbridge to get to you before I do," McGonagall said unhappily.

Her threat only caused Dumbledore's smile to widen.

"And sorry to burst your bubbles, but I hardly think Severus would be a better candidate for gaining Dolores's trust than myself!" McGonagall snapped.

"No doubt you're referring to Severus's record," Dumbledore came back with.

The blood seemed to drain from Snape's face in an instant and his jaw tightened dramatically. "My record has been cleared," he said, his lips barely moving.

"As has Potter's," McGonagall pointed out. "Dolores will believe what she wants; records be hanged!"

"She believes Potter's been spreading lies – " Snape began to argue.

"And she may very well believe that you are still a dark wizard!" McGonagall interrupted, her voice growing louder.

"If she believed that, why wouldn't she have launched an investigation earlier?"

"Because, up until now, Dumbledore's word has been as good as law! Now half the wizarding world thinks he's gone senile and that she's the hero that's going to get Hogwarts back on track."

"I have served Hogwarts, and the greater wizarding community, for the past sixteen years!" Snape shouted. "Considering Umbridge's belief that the Dark Lord is dead, my present speaks louder than my past!"

"For all we know Dolores may think you're still a loyal Death Eater looking for a way to restore his master to power!" McGonagall screeched.

"Enough," said Dumbledore quietly from his desk.

McGonagall and Snape stopped screaming at each other, though each continued to look murderously towards the other.

"Minerva has a valid point, Severus," Dumbledore said, earning a glare from Snape and a smirk from McGonagall. "I would advise you to avoid the topic whenever possible. Keep any conversation steered towards Hogwarts."

"My past is the past, and it's my business," Snape snarled. "I've no intention of discussing it with anyone."

"Good," said Dumbledore. He leaned forward in his chair slightly. "I know you have both been under considerable stress, but you cannot afford to lash out at one another."

"I'm sure the time will come when I'll be able to repay Minerva for her outburst," Snape said, shooting his colleague an angry look.

"_My_ outburst?" McGonagall queried, her nostrils re-flaring.

"I believe we can all say good night now," Dumbledore said a little louder than necessary.

"Splendid," Snape said with heavy sarcasm, then disappeared through the office door.

McGonagall snorted unhappily before rounding on the headmaster. "Have you made any progress on changing Dolores's chosen form of punishment for detentions?"

"It's a work-in-progress that has been made no less difficult by her new position," Dumbledore answered. "Go to bed, Minerva. It's late."

McGonagall let out a single chuckle. "I've hardly slept since term stated, Albus. I've a difficult time believing tonight will be any different." Nevertheless, she headed for the door.

"Perhaps you ought to see Poppy," Dumbledore suggested absentmindedly, opening a paper.

"An entertaining suggestion," McGonagall dully replied.

"You can either go see her of your own free will, or I will set her on you," Dumbledore said as he disappeared behind an article.

McGonagall briefly entertained the idea of arguing, then seemed to make up her mind as she stamped her foot and exited the office, taking care to slam the door behind herself.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Update. Boom. Hasn't even been 2 weeks yet. Or course, I'm not even finished writing chapter 83 yet... And I go back to school in 2 weeks... -bites nails-

Check out Fandom4LLS. Fantastic stuff. Also, I am now working on imitating bird calls. How's this one: Tweet tweet! ;-)

Leave a review, if you please, my lovelies!


	83. Chapter 83

_**Eighty-three – The Hogwarts High Inquisitor; In the Hog's Head; Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four**_

"Who do I have to thank for annoying you so thoroughly for me so early in the morning?" Snape asked McGonagall as she sat heavily at the staff table for breakfast.

"Potter," McGonagall said irritably, setting a napkin on her lap before throwing food onto her plate. "He's gotten himself another week of detention with Dolores."

"What a pity," Snape said sarcastically.

"If we were in the staffroom instead of the Great Hall, Severus, you'd have a knife sticking out of your leg right now," McGonagall snapped.

"You've got your inspection today, as well, do you not?"

McGonagall threw down her fork and knife. "There goes what little appetite I had," she said unhappily. "Thank you ever so much for reminding me, Severus."

"I simply want to make sure you're ready," Snape said smartly in response to the burning glare he received.

"I trust you're well prepared for your own inspection?" McGonagall asked irritatingly. "Have you done a mock interview with anyone to prepare?"

"Charming," Snape said tightly.

"I'd be happy to volunteer my services," McGonagall offered. "I simply want to make sure you're ready."

After a moment of staring at each other viciously, both McGonagall and Snape relaxed slightly.

"Alright," McGonagall said calmly. "I know that you're under a lot of stress, and you know that I'm under a lot of stress. Shall we agree to act as each other's stress relief?"

"Meaning I can yell at you without repercussion?" Snape asked.

"Yes, but I can do the same to you," McGonagall pointed out.

"Deal," Snape said almost immediately. He and his colleague shook on their pact.

Her pent-up rage lessened somewhat, McGonagall was able to pick up her fork again and managed to consume her breakfast before students began leaving the hall for class.

"Enjoy your inspection, Minerva," Snape said annoyingly as McGonagall rose from her seat.

"I hope you drop one of your knives on your foot, Severus," McGonagall snapped back, then left.

* * *

><p>"I see you've managed to keep yourself out of Azkaban," Snape said smartly in the staffroom after class.<p>

McGonagall closed the door behind herself and keenly scanned the entirety of the staffroom before making a reply. "Ever so charming, Severus," she bit back. "I don't think you'll be so cheery after _your _inspection."

"I don't think _you'll_ be so cheery after you get the results of your inspection back," said Flitwick, lowering a book that had been obscuring his face. "Tales of your encounter have spread faster than gossip would usually."

"I'd like to see her try to fire me," McGonagall snorted.

"You shouldn't have challenged her like that in front of students!"

"Challenge her?" McGonagall asked. "Much as I would like to challenge the toad, I did no such thing. I merely informed her of my typical classroom protocol."

"By telling her not to talk over you?" Flitwick asked shrewdly.

"I was simply asking how she could get a true sense of my teaching tactics if she were interrupting them," McGonagall said indifferently.

"Hopeless," Flitwick muttered, disappearing behind his book once more.

"Do tell me when you've gotten your results back," Snape said with an unpleasant sneer. "I do so want to read Dolores's opinion of you."

"I doubt she likes me much more than I do her," McGonagall said as she opened a copy of _The Prophet_. "However, I'll let you read mine as long as I can read yours. I'm quite anxious to know her opinion of you, as well."

Snape's sneer turned into a snarl. "Just what do you mean by that, Minerva?"

"Nothing, Severus," McGonagall said airily.

"Keep on this track and you'll be gone before Sybill."

McGonagall chuckled slightly. "If she manages to find a viable reason to fire me over Sybill, I'll do your laundry for a month."

"As if you'd – "

"Now, really!" Flitwick burst suddenly.

"We've an arrangement, Filius," McGonagall said calmly. "Don't worry yourself over it."

"I don't care what sort of agreement you may have come to," Flitwick said unhappily. "I, for one, would prefer to see just about anything other than my colleagues fighting at a time such as this!"

"Let's make this very clear, Filius," McGonagall began, but was interrupted as Umbridge entered the room.

"Don't stop conversing on my account," said Umbridge in her unpleasantly sweet voice.

"I've a potion to attend to," Snape announced before leaving.

"Well, perhaps I can take Professor Snape's place in the conversation," Umbridge said, taking Snape's abandoned seat.

"If only," McGonagall said lowly as Umbridge got herself settled.

"What was that, Minerva?"

"Nothing of consequence, Dolores," McGonagall said.

"Very well. What were we discussing?"

"Quidditch," Flitwick said quickly, before McGonagall could get herself into further trouble. "I was just saying that I think Ravenclaw has a very good chance at winning this year."

"And I was just about to state that Gryffindor has a more impressive record," McGonagall said, deciding to play along.

"But you've a new Keeper," Flitwick pointed out. "How's Wood doing, by the way?"

"Just fine, as far as I know," McGonagall said. "Last I heard, he had some sort of position with Puddlemere United."

"Do you often keep in touch with students after they've left Hogwarts?" Umbridge interjected.

McGonagall felt a muscle in her jaw twitch. "Wood needed a letter of recommendation to join the team. I submitted one for him. He wrote me to tell me he'd gotten a position. Surely you know about letters of recommendation?"

Flitwick suddenly fell into a not entirely convincing coughing fit. McGonagall thumped him on the back a little harder than necessary to rein him back in.

"Catching a cold, Professor Flitwick?" Umbridge asked.

"Merely had something at the back of my throat," Flitwick said, stretching his back slightly and glaring at McGonagall for a fraction of a second.

"Oh, look at the time!" Umbridge said, looking at her watch. "I've a detention in fifteen minutes. Best not be late." She stood and left, oblivious to the hand sign being flashed at her back by a beside-herself-with-fury Professor McGonagall.

"Really, Minerva!" Flitwick burst once the door was closed.

"I've got to have some sort of outlet, Filius," McGonagall snapped. "Or perhaps you'd prefer I go straight to the source?"

"Why not use this as an opportunity to build your skill in being tactful?" Flitwick desperately suggested. "Sooner or later, you'll have no option but to play politics, which undeniably involves massive amounts of tact."

"I'm inclined to agree with the definition of tact set by Muggle Prime Minister Winston Churchill," said McGonagall. " 'Tact is the ability to tell someone to go to hell in such a way that they look forward to the trip.' So really, if you think about it, I'm working up my ability to be tactful every time I speak to that horrible woman."

McGonagall flashed an annoying smile before leaving Flitwick sitting in his chair with his face in his hands.

* * *

><p>"I, for one, am ecstatic at an opportunity to leave the castle," Sprout told McGonagall as the pair of witches walked through Hogsmeade. "There are more opportunities to escape the toad out here."<p>

"Agreed," McGonagall said distractedly, looking over the tops of everyone's heads to the best of her ability.

Sprout wrinkled her nose slightly. "I've been thinking of putting a Venemous Tentacula in my room," she said casually.

"Don't you dare," McGonagall said in the same voice as before.

"Simply making sure you're paying attention," Sprout said coolly. "Are you looking for someone?"

"Marvelous deductive skills, Pomona."

"No need to be snarky about it!" Sprout said unhappily. "Who're you after now?"

"Never you mind."

"You know that's not a good answer to give me. I'm more curious than before."

"I'm looking for someone I could pay to shut you up permanently. Happy?" McGonagall asked smartly.

"Right, well, I suppose my presence would interfere in such endeavors," Sprout said, having decided she was unwelcome. "I suppose you'll meet me and Filius at Rosmerta's soon?"

"Within half an hour," McGonagall said.

"Very well. Don't get into too much trouble."

The two witches went their separate ways – Sprout further into the heart of the village and McGonagall towards its outskirts.

"_Psst!_"

McGonagall looked between two abandoned shops to see a veiled witch beckoning to her. "I'm not interested in buying anything," said McGonagall dully, heeding her summons.

"Ain't that stupid," said Mundungas Fletcher, pulling away the veil. "Can't breave wiv that damned thing on."

"Pressed for time, Fletcher. What's so important?" McGonagall asked shortly.

"If you're look'n for Potter, give up. Boy's gone off wiv Weasley and Granger."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Mundungas, but has it not been brought to your attention that you're _not to let Harry out of your sight?_"

"Keep your 'airnet on," Mundungas said. "Had a tip-off to hang aroun' the Hog's Head. Paid off."

"No one goes to the Hog's Head, especially you! Haven't you been banned?" McGonagall asked.

"Think I'd be dressed like this if I didn't have to be?" Mundungas asked, gesturing to his outfit. "You want to 'ear what Potter's up to or not?"

McGonagall's nostrils immediately flared and her eyes narrowed. "You've got approximately thirty seconds, Fletcher. Keep in mind that there are no witnesses in this part of town."

"Blimey," Mundungas muttered before launching into the tale of Harry, Ron, and Hermione meeting upwards of twenty students to form a Defense against the Dark Arts group.

McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose. "Who else might have heard?" she asked.

"Dunno. You know well as I do thatcha don't ask names in there, or see a lot of faces."

McGonagall sighed heavily. "Alright, go back and let everyone else know. Dumbledore, Snape, and I will figure something out to try to minimize damage."

"Fat chance," said Mundungas before disappearing with a _crack!_.

McGonagall was sorely tempted to head straight back to the castle, but knew she would do more harm than good to stray from her schedule. So it was that she went to _The Three Broomsticks _and attempted to act as her usual self until, finally, she was able to leave.

Within forty-five minutes of returning to Hogwarts, the professor had accomplished the things she would do normally upon returning from Hogsmeade and headed for Dumbledore's office.

"I've heard," Dumbledore said upon McGonagall's entrance. "Severus will be up shortly."

"Does she know yet?" McGonagall asked.

"Dolores? She's suspiciously absent from the premises at the moment," Dumbledore answered.

"Wonderful," McGonagall said dryly.

"Bloody brilliant, Minerva," said Snape sourly, striding into the office, "that's what your students are!"

"Charming, as always," McGonagall bit back.

"Your meddling students just always have to go and make a bad situation worse, don't they?"

"Here I was thinking you might actually end up enjoying Dolores's presence," McGonagall said drily.

"If you would both be so kind as to direct your attention back to the situation at hand," Dumbledore interjected.

"Our attention _is _on the situation at hand," Snape argued, still glaring at McGonagall.

"We have little time," said Dumbledore. "Filius and Pomona will be joining us shortly. Now, I think we can all foresee that this newly formed group will not cease to exist if they are asked to do so."

"Don't," McGonagall said as Snape opened his mouth to comment.

"We must catch them before Dolores does," said Dumbledore.

"And by 'we' you mean 'us,' " McGonagall stated.

"You're much more likely to catch them in the act than myself."

"Of course," McGonagall sighed.

"Are we to assume that, should the students be caught by Dolores, they will we punished outside of Hogwarts?" Snape asked.

"Hope for the best, expect the worst," Dumbledore said in reply.

"Hope's draining fast," McGonagall said.

"Kingsley and Tonks are going to work the angle that this Defense group could end up being a benefit to the Ministry," Dumbledore informed.

"How, in the name of all that is magical, do they intend on doing that?" McGonagall asked as Snape shook his head.

"Tonks is switching Guard shifts with Arthur so that she, Kingsley, Remus, and Sirius can attempt to work something out. Severus, I would like you to join them. You and Emmeline Vance will, I think, play the most effective devil's advocates."

Snape looked delighted at the prospect.

"This had better be important," said Sprout, entering the office.

"Not at all, Pomona," said McGonagall sarcastically. "As a matter of fact, you should probably just go back to your office."

"Don't tempt me," Sprout said testily.

"Good evening, my colleagues!" said Flitwick cheerily upon entering.

"Your good mood is giving me a headache, Filius," said Sprout moodily.

"You ought to try being in a good mood," Flitwick suggested. "It just might make the headache go away."

"Albus, will you tell us what's going on before I throw Filius out the window?" Sprout asked.

"It seems several students have formed a group to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts outside of class," said Dumbledore.

"Really?" Sprout said interestedly. "Good for them!"

"Not once Dolores finds out," Flitwick pointed out, his smile vanishing.

"Just as I was starting to get into a good mood as you suggested," Sprout sighed. "Do we know who's in it? Besides Potter, the Weasleys, and Granger, I mean?"

"Oi!" McGonagall burst.

"They're always involved in things they shouldn't be," Sprout said unconcernedly, brushing off McGonagall's anger.

McGonagall crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, pointedly ignoring Snape.

"They met at the Hog's Head, didn't they?" Flitwick asked.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered.

As a response to the questioning looks he received, Flitwick explained, "Miss Granger asked me just a few days ago if the Hog's Head was within bounds."

"Back to Pomona's question, I cannot name everyone in the group with certainty. However, there are very nearly thirty students involved."

"Just thirty?" Sprout asked with biting sarcasm.

"I'm sure it will grow in the coming weeks," said Dumbledore as if he were not aware of Sprout's sarcasm.

"Does Dolores know yet?" Flitwick asked.

"I believe someone's tipped her off, yes."

"Could it have been Aberforth?" Sprout suggested gingerly.

"I'm more than positive that Aberforth wants absolutely nothing to do with the Ministry, Pomona," Dumbledore said calmly.

"All the same, perhaps I should go see him and find out if he knew anyone there besides the students," McGonagall suggested.

"The Ministry's likely already investigating the _Hog's Head _as we speak," Snape said darkly. "If he's as anti-Ministry as Dumbledore suggests, I doubt he'd want to see any of us around. He'll blame us for whatever investigation they're launching."

"Then I should beat them there! How long has Dolores been gone, Albus?" McGonagall asked.

"Long enough," said Dumbledore. "I'm afraid we'll just have to deal with whatever comes next. Now, while this group is not out of bounds yet – "

"They surely will be soon," Sprout sighed.

"Correct. You _must _find them before Dolores does!"

"Minerva, perhaps you ought to stay out of the search," said Flitwick.

"Run that by me again, Filius?" McGonagall asked tightly.

"You've already made remarkable strides towards Dolores's bad side. If it were you that caught these students, Dolores will likely claim that whatever punishment you give them is not severe enough and take the matter into her own hands," Flitwick calmly argued.

McGonagall opened her mouth to snap out a reply, but Dumbledore cut her off.

"Unfortunately, Filius raises a very good point," Dumbledore said. "Minerva, you must keep alert as anyone else. However, if you do find the students – "

"Summon someone else to deal with them? Ridiculous! I think we all know that I'd be the _most _severe on them, expect perhaps Severus!" McGonagall raged.

"That's precisely the point, Minerva!" Flitwick argued.

McGonagall gripped the arms of her chair so tightly that all the color drained from her fingers. "That horrid woman should never have come," she said through her clenched teeth.

"Are you _sure_ we can't 'convince' her to leave, Albus?" Sprout asked.

Dumbledore looked at Sprout over his glasses.

Sprout sighed heavily. "It was worth a shot."

Flitwick hopped down from his chair. "I can't see that there's much more to be said on the subject. Shall we all head our separate ways before Dolores returns?"

"Good idea, Filius," Dumbledore said in agreement.

McGonagall dashed out of the room before Dumbledore could hold her back to talk about something else. For the rest of the day she remained locked in her office and ignored every single knock on her office door.

The following morning, McGonagall awoke to find a copy of Educational Degree Number Twenty-Four on her nightstand, which she read once through, then set ablaze before leaving for breakfast.

"I hope you're prepared to fight for Gryffindor's Quidditch team," said Sprout as a form of greeting at the table, "because I have a sneaking suspicion that they won't get permission to reform straight off the bat."

"Banning all student organizations," McGonagall mumbled darkly. "It's a wonder she doesn't consider the houses as student organizations."

"Don't give her ideas!"

McGonagall looked at Sprout unamusedly. "I think we both know I'd be the last person in this building to do so."

"And whatever you do, avoid Severus. He's going to find some way to rile you up and then – Why are you smiling?"

"Severus," McGonagall said in a tone that suggested she was trying not to laugh, "has his inspection today."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Ugly cliffie! I'm so mean. :P

Late, I know, I'm sorry. But I promised via yellow-bird imitation that I would update today (tweet tweet! -nudge nudge-). I have fulfilled my promise. Score. On the downside, this is, quite literally, everything I have written for the story so far. Yikes! Hopefully I can get some writing in this weekend.

And now, my lovelies, please be so kind as to leave a review.


	84. Chapter 84

_**Eighty-Three – Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four**_

"Must you smoke that ghastly thing in here, Wilhelmina?" McGonagall asked in the staffroom.

"You have your stress relief and I have mine," said Grubbly-Plank, lighting a pipe. "If you don't like it, you can go back to your office."

"You could just as easily go to yours, you know," McGonagall came back with, opening a newspaper.

"Mine lacks a certain personal touch. I don't want to get too attached to it, you see," Grubbly-Plank explained as she set to work grading assignments.

"I appreciate your willingness to step aside whenever Hagrid gets back."

"We're well under way for this semester. Where on earth is he?"

"Hopefully not in some snowy crevice somewhere," McGonagall said lowly.

"What was that?"

"Just muttering to myself," McGonagall sighed, then threw her paper aside. "I can't focus on reading right now."

Grubbly-Plank tossed McGonagall several papers. "At least make yourself useful."

McGonagall gave a dry laugh. "I can hardly get through grading Transfiguration and you think I'm going to help you with Care of Magical Creatures? I don't like you _that_ much, Wilhelmina."

Grubbly-Plank shrugged. "Fine. Let yourself think."

After a moment, McGonagall grudgingly snatched up the papers thrown at her and began to look them over while grumbly darkly.

A knock sounded after a moment and the two witches looked at each other confusedly.

"You're closer," Grubbly-Plank said after a moment.

Rolling her eyes, McGonagall rose from her seat and opened the staffroom door to find Harry Potter waiting on the other side. In an instant, McGonagall felt her blood pulsing violently through her veins and her nostrils flare. **"You haven't been given another detention!"**

"**No, Professor!" said Harry hastily.**

McGonagall felt her blood pressure drop slightly. **"Well then, why are you out of class?"**

"**It's **_**urgent, **_**apparently," **said one of the gargoyles guarding the door. McGonagall elected to ignore the comment, which Harry seemed more than willing to do, also.

"**I'm looking for Professor Grubbly-Plank," Harry explained. "It's my owl, she's injured."**

Gears in McGonagall's mind began turning at a furious pace and her blood pressure began to creep back up.

"**Injured owl, did you say?" **asked Grubbly-Plank, rising from her seat and joining McGonagall at the door, though she had switched her grading out for a copy of the _Daily Prophet_, evidently having given up on accomplishing any work.

"**Yes," said Harry, "she turned up after the other post owls and her wing's all funny, look – "**

By now, McGonagall was able to feel her heartbeat in her fingertips.

"**Hmm," said Grubbly-Plank. "Looks like something's attacked her. Can't think what would have done it, though… Thestrals will sometimes go for birds, of course, but Hagrid's got the Hogwarts thestrals well trained not to touch owls…"**

As Grubbly-Plank became more absorbed in looking over Hedwig, McGonagall locked her gaze on Harry. **"Do you know how far this owl's traveled, Potter?" **she asked, trying to keep any excess inflection out of her voice.

"**Er," said Harry. "From London, I think."**

McGonagall had to focus all her willpower in order to restrain herself from whacking Harry upside the head. Before she could come up with a coherent reply appropriate for a professor of Hogwarts, Grubbly-Plank spoke.

"**I should be able to sort this out if you leave her with me, Potter," **said Grubbly-Plank, still ruffling through the poor owl's feathers. **"She shouldn't be flying any long distances for a few days, in any case."**

"**Er – right – thanks," **Harry bumbled as bell rang for break

"**No problem," said Professor Grubbly-Plank** somewhat absentmindedly as she made to return to her seat in the staffroom.

"**Just a moment, Wilhelmina!" **McGonagall said, fighting the impulse to snatch the woman's robes. **"Potter's letter!"**

"**Oh yeah," said Harry. **He turned back and gathered his letter. As he and Grubbly-Plank parted ways, however, McGonagall seized her opportunity.

"**Potter!" **she barked.

"**Yes, Professor?" **Harry asked, returning.

McGonagall quickly glanced up and down the hall to gage the amount of time she had. **"Bear in mind," she said quickly and quietly**, looking pointedly at the letter Harry clasped, **"that channels of communication in and out of Hogwarts may be being watched, won't you?"  
><strong>

"**I – " said Harry, **but students were pouring into the hallway.

McGonagall nodded to indicate Harry's dismissal, reentered the staffroom, and shut the door heavily behind herself. "What's wrong with the owl, Wilhelmina?"

"Just a dislocation or two, I think," Grubbly-Plank replied. "Something must have gotten at her, though. Look here. She's got a bit of blood on her beak."

McGonagall stepped cautiously toward the owl and looked carefully at the creature's beak. Just as Grubbly-Plank had said, a drop or two of red stood out against the yellow. McGonagall glanced at Hedwig's eyes and, in a single angry glance, was sure she knew exactly what misfortune had befallen the bird.

"I'd best be going," McGonagall tried to say calmly, eager to run to Dumbledore's office.

"But I need your help!" Grubbly-Plank objected. "It'll only take a moment. If you just hold her down, I can pop these bones back into place and have her back to Potter in a day or two."

McGonagall glanced quickly at the door, but a loud squawk forced her to turn round. "Fine, you blasted bird, I'll help!" she snapped.

"Oi!" Grubbly-Plank bit out.

"Not you," McGonagall growled. Acting quickly, before Hedwig could react, McGonagall stretched one hand over the bird's chest and good wing, pinning the creature down. With the other hand, she clamped down firmly on Hedwig's beak.

"Is that really necessary?" Grubbly-Plank asked, poking about to find the bones she wanted.

McGonagall's mind flashed quickly to the night in Grimmauld Place when she had witnessed Ron, Hermione, and Ginny chasing Hedwig around, the former two complaining of being bitten. "I've had dealings with this animal in the past," McGonagall admitted. "I'm not eager for _my_ blood to be on her beak."

Hedwig's eyes flashed and her feathers began to puff up.

"Don't you start that with me," McGonagall snapped. "I _will _fail him if you don't control your temper!"

"You realize you're arguing with a bird?" Grubbly-Plank asked. "And you realize that it's not going to answer you?"

"If only it wouldn't answer," McGonagall said lowly to herself, tightening her grip on Hedwig's beak as she felt the owl begin to strain to regain control.

* * *

><p>Snape strode through the corridors unimpeded. Today, apparently, he was doing a better job than usual of assuring that he would be left alone. More than once he witnessed friends shove each other into walls in an effort to give him a wide berth.<p>

The knowledge that he had successfully instilled enough fear into the students to assure he be undisturbed by either them or the staff after classes were done buoyed his mood slightly. Upon entering his classroom, his spirits took a dive once more. Dolores Umbridge had already made herself quite comfortable in a corner.

"Professor Umbridge," said Snape, forcing a greeting out of his mouth.

"Professor Snape," Umbridge said in her usual sappy voice. "If I understand correctly, I am about to witness one of your O.W.L. classes?"

"_You have my schedule on that abominable clipboard of yours, you miserable Ministry marionette," _Snape thought viciously. Somehow, he was able to respond civilly with, "You understand correctly."

"Marvelous."

"Have you any questions to ask before the students arrive?" Snape asked after several slow breaths.

"Oh, no," said Umbridge with one of her froggy grins. "Simply go about your business. I'm not even here."

"_If only." _Snape went to his desk before he made any rash decisions.

As Snape began settling himself into his desk, commotion sounded from outside the dungeon. Quickly, before Umbridge could go over his head, Snape strode across his classroom and ripped open his door to see Potter and Weasley restraining Longbottom, of all people, from getting up off the floor.

"**Fighting, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom?" **he asked, flashing back to a miserable memory from his own time at school. After glancing at Potter's undisciplined hair he announced, **"Ten points from Gryffindor. Release Longbottom, Potter, or it will be detention. Inside, all of you."**

Sensing, but not caring, that a good portion of Gryffindor would be muttering about their potions master more than usual later in the evening, Snape ushered his students in. As he watched the red and gold, the green and silver pass by him, Snape realized that his assignment to win Umbridge's grace might be accomplished by the time class was over. To top that, he would need to put no extra effort into the ordeal.

"**You will notice," **Snape said after closing the door to the dungeon, **"that we have a guest with us today."** He gestured to Umbridge at the back of the room and noticed that, simply by recognizing her before the students, he had fed her slimy, amphibious sense of pride.

"**We are continuing with our Strengthening Solutions today, you will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson, if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend – instructions" – he waved his wand – "on the board. Carry on."**

Snape began weaving through the tables of potions, occasionally looking down into a cauldron, but made a point of keeping away from Potter and his sidekicks. Umbridge was busy writing notes in the corner, and he needed to restrain himself until she was paying attention to the students.

After nearly thirty minutes of class time had passed, Umbridge finally got out of her seat and strode towards Snape. Determined not to roll over completely, Snape acted as if he had not noticed, and put his attention toward Dean Thomas's cauldron.

"**Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level," **Umbridge began. Still, Snape did not turn. **"Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus."**

"_Yes, because the students of Hogwarts are going to storm the Ministry of Magic hyped up on Strengthening Solution, especially a brew they made themselves," _Snape thought, wondering if anyone might see the sarcasm oozing out his ears from his musings. He finally turned his gaze on the short woman before him.

"**Now… how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard. **

"**Fourteen years," Snape replied. **He found it marvelously convenient that Umbridge had not come up with her questions before class, when he had asked if she had any. He heard a potion nearby hiss and so desperately hoped it was some Gryffindor that he could chastise shortly.

"**You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?"**

In an instant, all considerations of allying himself to Umbridge disappeared and Snape wanted nothing more than to throw the toad out a window for bringing such a thing up in front of his students.

"**Yes," **Snape answered, his voice beginning to sound like a hiss.

"**But you were unsuccessful?"**

"**Obviously," **said Snape, unable to hold himself back. At that moment he decided he ought to go to bed early. His self-control was waning.

Umbridge made a note on her clipboard before her next question. **"And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?"**

"_I believe you're going to have an accident in this room full of incompetent potion brewers." _Snape filtered his thoughts and managed to reply in the affirmative, though his lips seemed unwilling to form any words at all.

"**Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" said Umbridge.**

"**I suggest you ask him," said Snape**, vaguely wondering if even McGonagall could come close to the level of rage he felt at present.

"**Oh, I shall," said Professor Umbridge with a sweet smile. **

"**I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked**. He had clenched his jaws so tightly he thought it a wonder none of his teeth had cracked.

"**Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge. "Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers' – er – backgrounds…"**

And, dismissing herself, Umbridge turned to begin discussing the class with students.

Seething internally, Snape whipped his head around toward Potter and saw, to his delight, that the boy's potion was a spectacular failure.

"**No marks again, then, Potter," said Snape. **He waved his wand and felt a slight, but wonderful, sense of accomplishment as that accursed face looked at him hatefully. Searching for further release, Snape came upon his next decision. **"You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?"**

"**Yes," said [Potter]. **

Eager to read whatever pitiful excuses the boy might manage to scrounge up in defense of his potion, Snape went to his desk, sat down, and buried himself in grading essays for the duration of the lesson, determined not to look at the vile spot of pink flitting about his room.

"I shall have the result of your inspection in a fortnight, Professor Snape," said Umbridge as the last of the students were leaving.

Snape merely looked up and nodded. He watched Umbridge carefully until, finally, the door shut behind her. After that, his fist clenched on the paper under his hand, damaging it considerably. Rather than repair the essay, however, he threw it into the air, set it aflame, and returned to the other papers before him.

* * *

><p>"I <em>understand<em>, Miss Johnson," McGonagall said for what she felt was the hundredth time in the past ten minutes, "but I've got no power in this specific instance!"

"That's bull – "

McGonagall cut her student off sharply, "I suggest you think before you finish that sentence."

Angelina Johnson took such a deep breath the seams of her robes showed strain. "Professor, there's _got _to be something you can do! The only reason she hasn't given the Gryffindor team permission to reform is because of Harry's outburst!"

"Professor Umbridge has many requests to deal with at present – "

"Well that's her own fault for making such a stupid rule," Angelina huffed.

"Miss Johnson, at present you are doing nothing but affirming the notion that the team should not be reformed! If the team's captain can't keep control of her own temper, how is she supposed to train, or keep in line, those she's been charged with? Now, _if_ you are able to leave my office without slamming my door and take a while to calm yourself down, and _if _you try approaching me again while acting like a civilized being, I will consider seeing what I can do about the situation. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Professor," said Angelina. Though she was clearly not pleased with the ultimatum posed before her, she seemed to have understood her professor's point. "I'll try again in the morning," she managed to say in a normal voice.

Angelina made for the door and opened it to reveal Professor Sprout. "Professor," she said courteously, holding the door open.

"Thank you, Miss Johnson," said Sprout. She stepped into the office and waited for Angelina to close the door before looking at McGonagall.

"You were listening at the keyhole, weren't you?" McGonagall asked dully as she began to massage her temples.

"Heavens no!" said Sprout. "That's for amateurs and Muggles. So what are you going to do about your team's situation?"

"Wait for Johnson to get herself together and apologize."

"We both know – "

"I'm as unhappy with Dolores's 'indecision' as the Gryffindor team, Pomona, make no mistake," McGonagall snapped. "I can't fight for them if they're going to throw tantrums all over the place, though!"

"Well, they learn their tantrum throwing skills from you," Sprout said, seating herself.

"You're about to get something heavy and dangerous thrown at your face, woman," McGonagall growled.

"Sybill's officially on probation," Sprout announced.

"I know that already," McGonagall bit out.

"How could you? I haven't seen you all day and I always learn things before you do!"

"Not this time. I had to go talk to Albus earlier today about a problem that arose with some mail," said McGonagall, reaching into the back of one of her drawers and pulling out a vial Pomfrey had insisted she take.

"If that's alcohol, you'd better share," Sprout demanded.

"It's something Poppy gave me to try to keep my blood pressure under control. She thinks that it's contributing to the severity of my headaches and my inability to sleep. Happy?" McGonagall asked before throwing down a dose of the potion.

"Well pass it over, then," said Sprout. "I haven't gotten a good night's sleep all week."

McGonagall obliged, passing the potion over her desk to Sprout.

"Have you heard anything about Severus's inspection?" Sprout asked, putting her feet up on McGonagall's desk.

"No. I don't much feel like dealing with him at present," McGonagall admitted, leaning back in her chair.

"She asked him about all his applications for the Defense job."

"Of course she did. She's a miserable and nosey toad that can't resist a nice juicy fly when she sees one," said McGonagall dully.

"Best not let her know that Poppy's put you on this potion, then," said Sprout. "This toad seems eager to rid the pond she inhabits of all the flies she can."

McGonagall took the potion and shoved it back into the depths of her desk.

"You've also heard that your fifth years – "

"Nearly got into a fight with Malfoy? Again? Yes I did, Pomona. Do you have anything _positive_ to say? If not, I kindly request that you leave me be. My head is killing me," said McGonagall, beginning to massage her temples once more.

"I'll shut up, but I won't leave you be," said Sprout. "I can serve as your excuse to send away anyone that might come calling for you. Have a paper I can read?"

McGonagall managed a weak smile as Sprout began digging through the masses of paper on her desk in search of something entertaining.

McGonagall had fallen asleep at her desk, and Sprout in her chair after several hours of sitting in silence.

"Minerva," said a voice quietly.

McGonagall forced her eyes open as a hand shook her shoulder.

"Merlin's beard, Albus!" she hissed angrily. "I was actually _sleeping_ and you saw fit to wake me up? What's wrong with you?"

"I've just had word from London," Dumbledore whispered significantly. "It's confirmed that our floo networks are being carefully monitored."

"Well it's a good thing I haven't tried to hire any assassins via floo network then, isn't it?" McGonagall quipped.

"Have you recently contacted anyone from the Order using floo?" Dumbledore asked after glancing at Sprout to make sure she was still sleeping.

"No. I'm not an idiot!"

"Well I had to be sure. It seems that Harry's mail has been opened more than once."

McGonagall took a moment to fit together the pieces floating about her mind. Her nostrils flared as she saw the full picture. "Sirius has been writing Harry? _And _arranging floo meetings? Does he _want_ to get the Dementor's Kiss? Because he's getting dangerously close!"

"I doubt if Umbridge knows who Harry was communicating with," said Dumbledore. "It will not be happening again, however. She very nearly caught Sirius's head."

"Then how could she not know who Harry's been calling?"

"If she'd known that Harry was communicating with Sirius – "

"She'd have had him carted off to Azkaban already, guilty by association," McGonagall finished, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Alright, alright, you've made your point."

"Not in its entirety," Dumbledore confessed.

McGonagall blinked several times in rapid succession. "You mean you've got more marvelous news for me?"

"I have confided in you and Severus only," said Dumbledore. "The rest of the staff musn't know. If we all cease using the floo network – "

"Dolores will want to know why and we'll, somehow, be in even more trouble. Yes, I understand. _Now _are you finished?"

"You cannot inform _anyone_, Minerva," said Dumbledore, glancing over his shoulder at Sprout, who was oblivious to what was happening in front of her.

"There are days I regret not stashing my wand away under my bed, and today is one of them," McGonagall huffed. "Please leave, Albus."

Dumbledore left quietly, as requested.

Sighing, McGonagall woke Sprout and directed the herbology professor toward her own quarters. Once left alone in her office, McGonagall entered her room, fell onto her bed without changing, and somehow forced her mind to be silent long enough to fall asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! My lovelies, it's been a long five months, and I've missed you dreadfully. I've given you my excuses before, and they still stand. I see no reason to repeat them.

I hope you all had a lovely holiday season, and that your new year is going well! Review!


	85. Chapter 85

_**Eighty-Five – Dumbledore's Army; The Lion and the Serpent**_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Umbridge**

* * *

><p><span>Minerva.<span>

_If this isn't good news, Albus, I swear – _

Oh, but it is good news!

_WONDERFUL! Let's hear it!_

Per your request, I spoke with Dolores about reforming the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Congratulations, the first match of the season will be Gryffindor versus Slytherin.

_That's great! Thank you, Albus! I tried to reason with her, but of course she wouldn't have that._

Now you've got to make sure that this whole event doesn't come back to haunt us.

_I've spoken with Johnson. She'll keep everything under control._

I certainly hope so.

* * *

><p>"Got Potter's owl all fixed up," said Grubbly-Plank upon entering the staffroom late at night.<p>

"Professor Grubbly-Plank has Harry Potter's owl?" squeaked a voice near the fireplace. "Is Harry Potter's owl been harmed?"

"Potter's owl had a mishap while delivering a message, Dobby," said McGonagall, glaring at a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ Umbridge had abandoned only moments ago, when she left for her office. "Leave her with me, Wilhelmina. I'll have Potter come get her from my office in the morning."

"Oh, Professor McGonagall! Dobby is very much willing to deliver Harry Potter's owl!" the elf squealed joyfully, the various hats on top of his head wobbling dangerously and threatening to fall. "Dobby is needing to clean the Gryffindor Tower and can bring the owl to Harry Potter directly!"

"Thanks, Dobby," said Grubbly-Plank, somewhat uneasily, "but there's no hurry. Potter can just pick – "

Hedwig, it seemed, did not agree with the decision at which Grubbly-Plank had arrived. The snowy white owl leapt from the Care of Magical Creatures instructor's shoulder and sat herself comfortably on the stack of hats atop Dobby's head.

Dobby smiled widely and swiveled his large eyes upward in an effort to somehow see the bird above him.

"Well, go on then, Dobby," said McGonagall. "It seems Hedwig is eager to get back to her owner."

The owl hooted in agreement and ruffled its feathers happily.

Dobby left the staffroom gleefully.

"He's a strange one, that Dobby," Grubbly-Plank commented.

"You don't know the half of it," said McGonagall.

Sprout entered the staffroom and slammed the door behind herself. "If this accursed rain doesn't stop soon we'll have a second lake on the grounds!" she fussed as she pulled off her mud-soaked boots. Her robes were drenched and her fly away hairs stuck to her forehead.

"Rough day, Pomona?" McGonagall asked, her lips twitching at the ridiculous appearance of her colleague.

"If you don't make that smirk go away, Minerva, I'll wipe it off your face for you," Sprout threatened.

"What's happened to change your happy-go-lucky attitude, Pomona?" Grubbly-Plank asked.

"I haven't been able to accomplish a single thing all day because of this rain," Sprout said as she flopped down onto a couch. "I can't hear my students, and my students can't hear me, the rain is so loud. I've been cold and sopping wet all day, _and – "_

"You know you've got this marvelous thing called a wand, right, Pomona?" McGonagall asked.

"Very clever, Minerva," said Sprout, narrowing her eyes. "I'm not going to waste the first ten minutes of class drying myself off when I'll just have to go back outside in less than an hour. I think there ought to be some sort of roofed walkway that – "

"Oh, how you amuse me, Pomona," McGonagall commented.

"What's this filth doing out on the table?" Sprout asked, glaring at _The Prophet_ unfolded before her. She prodded it cautiously with her foot, as if it might come alive and attack her.

"Dolores was here just a few minutes ago," Grubbly-Plank answered.

"And of course, she was reading the most recent article ridiculing Dumbledore," Sprout huffed. "She'll end up singing a different tune by the end of the year, I'm sure of it!"

"What do you mean by that?" Grubbly-Plank asked.

"She _means_, Wilhelmina, that You-Know-Who isn't going to sit quietly in the shadows forever," McGonagall said dismally. "The Ministry's only doing him favors now by ignoring his return. I doubt it will be long before Cornelius, Dolores, and all the rest of them have to eat their words and do what Dumbledore suggested they start in June. By then, it'll be too late, of course. He'll have the upper hand."

"I think," said Grubbly-Plank, somewhat uneasily, "that I ought to get to bed. Goodnight."

"Well that was a _genius_ move, Minerva!" Sprout hissed once the door closed behind Grubbly-Plank. "You keep talking that bluntly and you'll join Sybill on probation!"

"She can't have the whole staff on probation at once," McGonagall countered carelessly. "Don't worry about me, Pomona."

"She'll have to get rid of you, and replace you, before she goes for Dumbledore," said Sprout. "She knows you'd raise a ruckus otherwise. If for no other reason, Minerva, you need to keep your position so Dumbledore keeps his. Think on that a bit, will you?"

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Umbridge**

* * *

><p><em>Alright, Severus, I've kept quiet long enough!<em>

_**Quite the contrary, Minerva. I've greatly appreciated your silence and highly recommend that you keep it up.**_

_Your team is cursing mine in the corridors!_

_**Pah. What evidence have you?**_

_I've got fourteen witnesses that saw your Keeper jinx one of my Chasers!_

_**And I've got an entire student body expressing their amazement that the great Minerva McGonagall has decided against giving them homework for the week!**_

_Well at least I'm being fair about it and not giving ANYONE homework! My team can hardly get on the pitch to practice!_

_**Is it my fault that you're not hurrying fast enough to schedule time for your team?**_

_I have scheduled time! Adequate time! But, strangely enough, the schedules I sign up on seem to disappear and be replaced with ones with YOUR signature!_

_**What are you accusing me of?!**_

_Not you, one of your team! They've never been much for abiding by the rules, but cursing players and disrespecting their professors? That's just a BIT much! You need to talk to them and tell them to keep it on the field!_

**What seems to be the problem here?**

_Nothing, Dolores. Simply a discussion between Heads of House._

_**There is no evidence to any wrongdoings of my team, Minerva. I will abide by fact, rather than speculation, and will see you on the pitch come Saturday.**_

_Rest assured, Severus, if I see ANY of your students pull their wands out between classes, I'll be giving them detention!_

**That hardly seems fair.**

_You're one for rules, Dolores, so you ought to know that magic is prohibited in the corridors, and why would a student have their wand out other than to perform magic? I WILL NOT tolerate attacks on my team, Severus, make note of THAT!_

_**Nor will I, Minerva. **_

_You put your team in line, and I'll keep mine in line. Deal?_

_**I AM keeping my team in line!**_

_FINE! If you're going to be so stubborn and pig-headed about it, I'll deal with the issue myself! My team will beat yours though, as they always do! That Cup is staying in MY office!_

_**We'll see.**_

* * *

><p>"Your keeper looks like he's about to faint," Snape said in greeting as McGonagall seated herself for breakfast on game day.<p>

McGonagall looked out and found Ron Weasley. He was paler than she had ever seen him and refusing to eat. "No Weasley has ever disappointed their Quidditch team before, and I doubt that's about to change," McGonagall said airily, though she began praying silently that Ron would gather himself.

"Filius, why can't your house ever behave normally?" Sprout asked, nodding her head towards Luna Lovegood, who had constructed a large lion hat that roared and wore it proudly through the hall.

"That's not because she's in my house," said Flitwick with a sigh. "That's because she's got Xenophilius for a father. I'll admit I'm curious to find out what she used to make that hat, though. It's quite impressive."

"Severus," said McGonagall slowly, her eyes narrowing. "What are those badges your house is wearing?"

"Is my team not allowed to be festive on game day now?" Snape growled.

McGonagall and Snape glared at each other a moment longer before each returned to their food.

Before long, the Great Hall began to empty as everyone headed for the Quidditch Pitch.

"Is Lee Jordan still doing commentary?" Sprout asked McGonagall as they stepped on the frozen grass.

"Yes," said McGonagall exasperatedly. "I didn't have the heart to replace him his last year here."

"A decision I'm sure you'll come to regret soon enough," said Sprout loftily.

"Well, he'll keep you well occupied, at least," Flitwick said cheerily. "Have you thought of who might do it next year?"

"I'm kind of taking things one day at a time here, Filius."

"Simply curious," said Flitwick.

McGonagall took her usual seat in the stands beside the commentator's microphone. She watched Johnson and Montague shake hands, and her stomach started to do all sorts of flips as both teams took to the air. Hardly any time passed before she found herself having to snap at Lee Jordan.

"**And it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me – "**

"**JORDAN!" **McGonagall shouted at her student, hearing her voice echo through the pitch.

"**Just a fun fact, Professor," **said Jordan with a wide smile, **"adds a bit of interest – and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's – ouch- been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe… Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and – nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away – "**

McGonagall had to focus all her efforts into not biting her nails. She had somehow blocked out Jordan and was simply focusing on watching the game. The first goal would be crucial, and Gryffindor needed to get it to buoy their spirits, especially Ron's. He looked rather like a ghost at his end of the pitch.

Jordan suddenly stopped commentating, and McGonagall refocused her ears to hear Slytherin singing.

_**Weasley cannot save a thing,**_

_**He cannot block a single ring,**_

_**That's why Slytherins all sing;**_

_**Weasley is our King**__._

McGonagall felt her nostrils flare dangerously and scanned the pitch until her gaze finally landed on Snape. She became determined to give him an earful when she saw him next. Encouraging one's team was perfectly acceptable, but Slytherin's behavior was unsportsmanlike, and certainly not befitting of any Hogwarts student.

Jordan started speaking even more loudly into his microphone, doubtless trying to wash out the sound of Slytherin. His attempts were for naught, however. Even with a microphone, there was no way he could drown out nearly one hundred and fifty students at a Quidditch match.

McGonagall slammed her fist onto the seat beside her as Angelina attempted a goal and was blocked by Slytherin's keeper. Slytherin had the ball, and they were clearly determined to get that first goal.

"**Slytherin Score!" **called Jordan after Ron let the Quaffle fly through his arms. **"So that's ten-nil to Slytherin – back luck, Ron…"**

As Slytherin began singing louder, McGonagall desperately wanted to put her face into her hands. Not only had Slytherin scored the first goal, but she knew that Ron's confidence, whatever he might have had when he took to the sky, was gone.

McGonagall's hopes grew smaller and smaller as Ron let in three more goals. She consoled herself with the idea that, as the Slytherin team was busy singing along to their horrible chant with the rest of their house, they would become overconfident and begin slipping up.

Finally, Angelina Johnson put the Quaffle through one of Slytherin's hoops, earning Gryffindor ten points and greatly encouraging the house.

Shortly after, McGonagall's eyes flew to Harry as he streaked across the field, Malfoy right beside him. McGonagall could not help but cheer as she saw Harry's hand clasp around the Snitch. Slytherin was defeated and –

McGonagall joy turned at once to utter rage as Crabbe swung his bat after the whistle, hitting Harry with a Bludger that took him off his broom.

"Oh, let it go, Minerva," said Sprout cheerily, slapping McGonagall's shoulder and breaking her focus. "Rolanda will deal with Crabbe. You know how low her tolerance is for – _What is it, Filius?"_

Flitwick, who had been tugging on Sprout's sleeve, pointed down onto the pitch.

McGonagall felt her blood boil as she saw Harry swing his fist into Malfoy's stomach. Quite suddenly, both he and George Weasley were on Malfoy, punching every bit of him they possibly could. McGonagall was so enraged she could not move, nor could she think. It wasn't until Hooch broke up the fight and glanced to the Head of Gryffindor that McGonagall realized she would have to deal with the issue.

Without a word, McGonagall descended from her seat and strode back to her office to find Harry and George outside her door. **"In!" she said furiously, pointing to the door. **

Without looking at her students, McGonagall stomped behind her desk and, feeling her hand shaking, ripped the Gryffindor scarf she had donned earlier from her neck.

"_**Well?**_**" she said. "I have never seen such a disgraceful exhibition. Two onto one! Explain yourselves!"**

"**Malfoy provoked us," said Harry stiffly.**

"**Provoked you?" **McGonagall shouted. She swung her fist onto her desk rather than at her students. She heard something clatter to the floor, but could not bring herself to care about it. **"He'd just lost, hadn't he, of course he wanted to provoke you! But what on earth he can have said that justified what you two – "**

"**He insulted my parents," snarled George. "And Harry's mother."**

Under different circumstances, McGonagall might have been more sympathetic, but staging a fight before the whole school was not a situation that permitted such emotions.

"**But instead of leaving it to Madam Hooch to sort out, you two decided to give an exhibition of Muggle dueling, did you?" **As McGonagall's throat began to ache, she realized she had lost control of the volume of her voice. **"Have you any idea what you've - ?"**

"_**Hem, hem."**_

Later, McGonagall would reflect on what a miracle it was that she had not whipped out her wand and cursed Dolores Umbridge into the next century.

"**May I help, Professor McGonagall?" asked Professor Umbridge in her most poisonously sweet voice. **

McGonagall felt as though someone had set fire to her face. **"Help?" she repeated in a constricted voice**, beginning to fear what might happen. **"What do you mean, 'help'?"**

Umbridge displayed the audacity to step forward into the office, smile upon her face. **"Why, I thought you might be grateful for a little extra authority."**

And, just like that, McGonagall came to regret asking Dumbledore for help in reforming the Gryffindor team. Umbridge seemed to have drawn the conclusion that McGonagall was incapable of handling situations on her own.

"**You thought wrong," **said McGonagall. She turned her back on Umbridge, surprised to find herself facing her students. She did not recall walking across her office at any point in time, but must have, as she now stood between them and Umbridge. **"Now, you two had better listen closely," **she said to them dangerously. **"I do not care what provocation Malfoy offered you, I do not care if he insulted every family member you possess, your behavior was disgusting and I am giving each of you a week's worth of detention. Do not look at me like that, Potter, you deserve it! And if either of you ever – "**

"_**Hem, hem."**_

McGonagall closed her eyes and gave herself a moment to regain control before pivoting slowly to face Umbridge. _**"Yes?"**_ she tried to say politely.

"**I think they deserve rather more than detentions," said Umbridge, smiling still more broadly. **

McGonagall felt her eyes pop, and only then registered that Umbridge had exchanged her usual pink garb for green. **"But fortunately," she said**, attempting a smile that she was sure looked more terrifying than anything, **"it is what I think that counts, as they are in my House, Dolores."**

"**Well, **_**actually**_**, Minerva," simpered Umbridge, "I think you'll find that what I think **_**does**_** count. Now, where is it? Cornelius just sent it. …I mean," she gave a little false laugh as she rummaged in her handbag**, which was still disgustingly pink and clashed horribly with her outfit, **"the **_**Minister**_** just sent it. …Ah yes…"**

A thousand thoughts flew through McGonagall's mind at once, from wondering if Umbridge was somehow trying to make her jealous of having Ministry connections, to contemplation of what might happen to a toad that falls from a great height without a wand.

"_**Hem, hem**_**… 'Educational Decree Number Twenty-five …"**

"**Not another one!"** McGonagall felt the words burst out of her mouth before she had any thought of stopping them.

"**Well, yes," said Umbridge, still smiling. "As a matter of fact, Minerva, it was you who made me see that we **_**needed **_**a further amendment. ….You remember how you overrode me, when I was unwilling to allow the Gryffindor Quidditch team to re-form?"**

Only McGonagall's subconscious processed Umbridge's next few statements. Her conscious mind was filled with remorse, rage, and worst of all, a sense of helplessness. She only tuned her full mind back in when Umbridge began reading the actual decree.

"'**The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions, and removals of privileges as may have been ordered by any staff members. Signed, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class, etc., etc., …'"**

McGonagall desperately wished she were only having a nightmare, but if she were, she surely would have woken by now.

"**So… I really think I will have to ban these two from playing Quidditch ever again," **said Umbridge after rolling up her parchment.

"**Ban us?" **said Harry distantly. **"From playing…ever again?"**

"**Yes, Mr. Potter. I think a lifelong ban ought to do the trick." **

McGonagall felt as though she were about to retch as the smile on Umbridge's face grew wider at the expressions of horror upon the boys' faces.

"**You **_**and **_**Mr. Weasley here," **Umbridge continued. **"And I think, to be safe, this young man's twin ought to be stopped too – if his teammates had not restrained him, I feel sure he would have attacked young Mr. Malfoy as well. I will want their broomsticks confiscated, of course; I shall keep them safely in my office, to make sure there is no infringement of my ban. But I am not unreasonable, Professor McGonagall. The rest of the team can continue playing. I saw no signs of violence from any of **_**them**_**. Well… good afternoon to you."**

Umbridge left, seeming happier than ever before.

McGonagall stood, unmoving, for what had to have been a full two minutes before she trusted herself to do anything. "Leave," she told her students hoarsely. "And if you have any sense in your bodies at all, don't say another word to me."

Harry and George rose and left, seeming incapable of speech at all.

In a daze, McGonagall covered the Quidditch Cup in her office with a piece of cloth and fell into her chair, wondering how on earth Hogwarts had gotten to its current state, and how much further it had yet to fall.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

No, I'm not dead. Just have lots of other things to do besides fanfic. Sorry, my lovelies, but real life likes to punch people in the face and keep them from fun things sometimes. :(

Anywho! Here's your update! Be sure to let me know what you think. Brownie points for those who hate Umbridge as much as I do!


	86. Chapter 86

_**Eighty-Six – Hagrid's Tale; The Eye of the Snake**_

"Minerva."

McGonagall rolled over. Surely, there could not be someone in her room. By now everyone would have heard about her encounter with Umbridge and no one could be foolish enough to disturb her.

"Minerva…"

Part of a dream, surely.

"Minerva! Wake up!"

McGonagall instinctively dug her nails into the hand that shook her shoulder. "Albus!" she exclaimed after a moment.

"Kindly release me," Dumbledore requested, looking to his incarcerated hand.

McGonagall unclenched her fingers and blood flowed through Dumbledore's hand once more. "This is the _second_ time you've woken me up now," she said sullenly, sitting up. "What's your reasoning now?"

As an answer, Dumbledore grabbed McGonagall's bathrobe and held it out for her.

McGonagall snatched her robe and slung it on as she stuffed her feet into her slippers.

"Boots," Dumbledore suggested.

"You're making me go outside at this ungodly hour?" McGonagall asked unamusedly.

"Well, yes, that is where Hagrid's cabin is," said Dumbledore with a smile.

"Hagrid's back?" McGonagall gasped, feeling her own lips spread into a grin. "Why didn't you just say so?" She ripped out her hairnet and threw on her cloak over her bathrobe.

"Severus is keeping an eye out for us," said Dumbledore quietly as he and his deputy stepped into the hall. "Once he sees that we're out safely, he will follow."

"What if she's watching from a window?" McGonagall asked.

"Last I checked, Dolores was in her quarters. She's been quite busy today, I've heard," said Dumbledore knowingly.

"Was it Pomona or Filius that told you?" McGonagall asked. "Oh, who am I kidding? It was Pomona."

"As soon as she found out she came to me to see if I had spoken with you about it. You'll be pleased to know I advised her against visiting you."

"That was a very smart move."

As the pair walked across the stone floor of the entrance hall, McGonagall wrapped a scarf around her neck while Dumbledore donned a hat. His choice for the night was knitted to resemble a phoenix and was complete with earflaps that had baubles dangling from them.

"Molly made it for me," said Dumbledore with a smile at the concerned look his deputy gave him. "I could ask if she'd be willing to make one for you, if you'd like."

As an answer, McGonagall threw open the main door to the castle and strode out into the snow.

No light came from Hagrid's cabin, though a small amount of smoke still crept out of the chimney. Dumbledore knocked loudly, but not loud enough to rise above Hagrid's snoring.

"I'm not going in first," McGonagall said when Dumbledore made to open the door himself.

"Where's your Gryffindor spirit, Minerva?" Dumbledore teased. He opened the door, stepped in, and was promptly ambushed by Fang, who had risen when the lighting in the cabin changed.

As Fang began barking gleefully, Hagrid stirred in his bed and turned over. McGonagall gasped and covered her mouth with both hands at the sight of Hagrid's bruised and bloodied face.

"Hagrid! What's _happened_ to you?" she asked.

"Good ter see yeh too, Minerva," said Hagrid, grinning. McGonagall noticed that several of his teeth were missing. "Professor Dumbledore, sir."

"Good evening, Hagrid!" said Dumbledore cheerily. "I apologize for waking you, but there was not another time we could speak freely." He turned his attention toward rekindling the fire.

McGonagall watched Hagrid carefully as he got out of his bed and shuffled across his floor toward his cabinets to begin making tea for his guests. "You've cracked some ribs, I think, Hagrid," she said worriedly.

"I'm fine, Minerva," said Hagrid with a wave of his massive hand.

Not believing the half-giant for an instant, McGonagall badgered him until she succeeded in making him sit, then continued making the tea on her own. Just as she was pouring, Snape entered the cabin to be greeted by Fang growling.

"She's still in her office," Snape announced, taking off his cloak and hanging it. "She's most certainly not asleep, however. I set a charm to alert us in the event she leaves her office."

"Wha's this goin' on?" Hagrid asked. "Is it tha' Umbridge woman?"

"You've seen her?" McGonagall asked, eyes widening.

"Well yeah," Hagrid answered. "She stopped by jus' after Ha – jus' after I got back."

"She was watching," said McGonagall dismally. "What did she say to you, Hagrid?"

"I hope you discouraged Mr. Potter and company from coming to visit you at such a late hour again, Hagrid," said Dumbledore, looking at Hagrid over his glasses.

"Well…" Hagrid began.

"Not a word, Severus," McGonagall fumed, infuriated that Harry had broken curfew so soon after being banned from Quidditch.

"Did I say anything, Minerva?" said Snape silkily, a smirk on his face.

"This is not the time, nor the place, for your arguing," said Dumbledore, glancing between Snape and McGonagall. "Now, Hagrid, we've already known for some time that the Death Eaters managed to seal a deal with the giants, but I would like to hear your side of the story. I have, unfortunately, been unable to communicate with Madame Maxime as I would like."

Hagrid sighed, wincing painfully as he did so, then rattled off his account of events.

"And what's taken you so long to get back?" asked Snape once Hagrid had finished.

"I – I wanted ter look into some family business," Hagrid grumbled. One of the various cuts on his face began to bleed.

McGonagall rose from her seat, grabbed one of Hagrid's massive towels, and pressed it to the man's bleeding face.

"I've got it, Minerva," Hagrid said, evidently annoyed, as he tried to bat her away.

"Clearly you haven't, Hagrid, or you wouldn't still be bleeding!" McGonagall snapped. "Now hold still!"

"Madame Maxime did not feel this same urge to familiarize herself with her family tree?" Snape asked. "She returned well in time for the beginning of term."

"Olympe didn' have any interes' in her family," said Hagrid. He then hissed as McGonagall pressed too hard on his wound.

McGonagall looked around to find a sizeable portion of a dragon steak in Fang's bed. "You didn't put that thing back on your eye after Fang had gotten at it, did you?" she asked.

"Migh' have," Hagrid tried to say casually.

"Well no wonder your wounds hurt so much!" McGonagall fumed. "They're probably infected! Bad dog!" she added to Fang, who sat quite happily by Dumbledore's side as the headmaster stroked his head.

Knowing spells would bounce right off Hagrid's skin, McGonagall returned to the cabinet and rummaged around until finding a bottle of whiskey. Figuring it would have to do, she poured half the bottle onto the towel she had found, much to Hagrid's objection, and began dabbing at his wounds, managing to step out of the way of several reflexive swipes.

"Well, this is all quite a shame," Dumbledore sighed. "It's so very unfortunate that Karkus was overthrown as Gurg so soon after you arrived."

"Tha's the giants fer yeh," said Hagrid. "Minerva, tha' _hurts!_"

"Good," said McGonagall. "Maybe next time you go away you'll come back sooner, so we don't worry about you as much. Let this be a lesson. And _stop squirming!_"

"Tha' Umbridge woman says she's go' permission ter inspect teachers?" Hagrid asked, seeming eager to distract himself.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "It seems Cornelius has lost faith in my ability to govern Hogwarts properly and has installed Umbridge as a failsafe."

"Los' faith?!" Hagrid roared, standing so fast he knocked his chair over. "There isn' a person alive tha' could – "

"Yes, Hagrid, we're all upset about the matter," said McGonagall shortly from the floor where she had fallen when Hagrid jumped up. "Now sit back down so we can finish warning you! And _stop smirking_, Severus! Don't think I don't see you!" she added as she pulled herself up.

Snape made no effort to hide the leer stretched across his face and leaned back in his chair to watch the scene before him unfold further.

Hagrid slowly lowered himself back into his chair and balled his large hands into fists as McGonagall set to work on his face again.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued calmly, "Dolores has gained permission to create Educational Decrees, and is using them much to her advantage. She has power to inspect any teacher she so wishes and has already put Sybill Trelawney on probation."

Hagrid snorted his displeasure.

"Hagrid, I must urge you to tread carefully," said Dumbledore. "Dolores already suspects that you were on some sort of errand for me and may very well – "

"She asked if I'd been in the mountains," said Hagrid darkly.

McGonagall stopped tending to Hagrid's face to look at Dumbledore. "Well that's quite disturbing," she said.

"Undoubtedly she has had some sort of communication with Lucius Malfoy," Snape explained.

"Perhaps with a bag of gold attached bribing her to get rid of half the team that constantly shames his son?" McGonagall asked with tight lips.

"Enough," said Dumbledore. "Hagrid, did you, at any point, run into someone from any sort of Ministry?"

"Nah," said Hagrid. "Kep' quiet, jus like yeh said ter."

"Hagrid," McGonagall asked, bracing herself for an argument, "what are you planning on working with for each of your classes?"

Hagri's unswollen eye shone brightly. "Can' tell yeh," he said. "Wan' it ter be a surprise."

McGonagall felt her heart sink. "Hagrid, I beg of you, go back to that syllabus I made with you a few years ago, please!"

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to see you thrown out of the castle!" McGonagall burst.

"Minerva, Severus, perhaps you'd best return to the castle now," said Dumbledore. "Minerva, please take care to inform the Order that Hagrid is safely returned."

McGonagall threw the towel she had been using down with unnecessary force, grabbed her cloak, and stepped out into the snow without waiting for Snape.

"You can't keep losing your temper like that, Minerva," said Snape, catching up to his colleague.

"We're not all as skilled at holding our tongues as you are, Severus," McGonagall snapped. "I don't want to see Hagrid leave, and I can't think of a better way to get through his head! And if you say _anything_ about thick skulls, I swear I'll stun you, cover you with snow, and leave you to die of frostbite!"

"Amusing as I think it'd be to see you try such a feat, I assure you that you'd be unsuccessful, especially now that you've warned me of your plan," said Snape smartly.

McGonagall stopped in her tracks to look Snape full in the face. "How is it that you're so incredibly calm about all this?"

"I dislike Dolores nearly as much as you," Snape admitted. "I, however, am well versed in keeping my temper."

"That's rich," McGonagall scoffed. She began walking again. "Just because you don't yell like I do doesn't mean you don't lose your temper. I see you lose it all the time."

"When?" asked Snape, his lips curling.

"Pick a day, Severus, any day," said McGonagall dully, opening the castle door. "Now are you going to keep watch for Albus, or shall I?"

Snape scoffed. "And let you pick Dolores off in her sleep? I don't think that would end well for us."

"If I were going to curse her, Severus, I would make sure she had her own wand in hand," said McGonagall. "I would _never_ throw a harmful spell at someone unarmed, even if they were a prissy little pink puffball that should never have been allowed to roam the earth. Good night!"

* * *

><p>Late on Tuesday evening, after Hagrid failed to show for dinner, McGonagall bundled herself up and headed out for his cabin, determined to check on how he was faring.<p>

"Hagrid?" she called after her knocks went unanswered. "I know you're in there, Hagrid!"

From inside sounded Fang's barking and, after a moment, scratching at the door.

"I'm coming in whether you open the door for me or not," McGonagall warned. "One…"

The door swung open to reveal Hagrid's fallen face. He somehow looked much smaller than he had just a few nights prior.

Deciding to allow Hagrid the courtesy of pulling himself together before speaking, McGonagall strode into the cabin, fought off Fang's leaps, and sat down at the table. "Dumbledore says he'll be by to see you tomorrow," she began conversationally. "A friend of his is in the area for tonight only, so he had to go out to Hogsmeade."

"Swell," said Hagrid without his usual luster as he set a kettle to boil.

"You weren't at dinner," McGonagall said. "We got worried."

Hagrid made no reply other than throwing another log into his fireplace.

"Is it your ribs?" McGonagall continued to prod. "I told you they might be cracked. Have you gone to see Poppy?"

" 'S not my ribs," Hagrid said moodily.

McGonagall rolled her fingers across the tabletop as Hagrid rummaged through his cabinets, pulling out various things. With a sigh, she decided she best wait for Hagrid to make the next move.

Finally, after he had finished the tea and taken a healthy sip of it, Hagrid spoke. "I shoulda listened to yeh, Minerva," he said finally.

McGonagall quickly set down her cup of tea as she felt her hands begin to shake. "You were inspected," she stated.

Hagrid nodded sullenly. "I don' think I made a good impression."

"Go on, then," McGonagall encouraged, trying to sound kind rather than exasperated. "Tell me what happened."

"Well, I bin planning on showin' thestrals fer a long time now," Hagrid began.

McGonagall's next blink was longer than necessary.

"I thought the lesson was goin' well, then _she_ showed up," Hagrid continued. "I dunno wha' happened. Everything was fine one minute, an' the next I'd los' all me nerve."

Several ideas of what might have happened flew through McGonagall's mind, but determined to be fair, she coached Hagrid through a detailed summary of his class. He discussed how slowly and loudly Umbridge had spoken to him, how she had read aloud what she wrote on her clipboard, how she had mimed her words as she spoke them.

"Oh, Hagrid," McGonagall said sadly once he had finished his recount.

"Shoulda 'spected it," Hagrid said, pulling his coat around to the front of his chair and digging out a bottle of amber liquid. "She never has liked giants, tha' Umbridge woman."

McGonagall reached out and snatched the bottle from Hagrid before he could pour any into his drink. "I know you're upset, Hagrid, and you have every right to be," she began, "but you _cannot_ do anything further that might make Umbridge watch you more closely."

"Yer right," Hagrid admitted with a sigh. "Wha' am I supposed ter do now?"

"Now," said McGonagall as she opened the back door and poured the bottle out into the snow, "you need to follow either Grubbly-Plank's syllabus, or the one you and I made a few years ago. If you want, Albus, Filius, Pomona, or I can help you fine tune the lesson plans to help you prepare better."

After pouring out the last of the bottle, McGonagall vanished it, then turned to face Hagrid with a stern expression.

"There's more in the top lef' cabinet," Hagrid admitted.

Tall as she was, McGonagall needed to step on one of Hagrid's chairs to reach his top shelf. She pulled out three more bottles and proceeded to dump each of them out in turn. When she turned back to Hagrid, it was to find him looking into his empty cup, Fang's head in his lap.

"Nothing's official yet, Hagrid," McGonagall said as she seated herself once more. "Perhaps you can plan another lesson, one that's not quite so advanced, and see if she'll give you a second chance." She doubted the words coming out of her own mouth, but the idea was worth a try.

Hagrid shook his large head. "I don' want her in my class again," he said stubbornly.

McGonagall frowned and thought for several minutes in search of another solution, but failed to come up with one.

"Alright," she said finally, rising from her chair. "Go ahead and try to get some sleep. I'll let Albus know what happened as soon as he gets back and he'll start thinking. By the time he comes to see you tomorrow, I'm sure he'll have a few ideas up his sleeve."

"Yeah, alrigh'," Hagrid grumbled.

As soon as McGonagall closed Hagrid's door behind herself, all her thoughts of sympathy and sorrow for Hagrid turned to wrath and loathing for Umbridge. Knowing Dumbledore would not return for several hours, McGonagall stormed into Sprout's office without invitation and ranted freely.

* * *

><p>Every passing week brought more and more stress upon the staff of Hogwarts. Two days before Christmas break was to begin, McGonagall had started counting down the hours.<p>

After grading a considerable stack of essays, McGonagall abandoned her office and headed for Dumbledore's. Despite the fact that both of them had incredibly busy schedules, Dumbledore insisted they keep up their regular chess games. McGonagall was half annoyed at the loss of time, and half grateful for the distraction from her obligations.

McGonagall found herself pulled away from her various thoughts by the sound of high-pitched humming. She took a detour to follow the sound and found Dobby the elf walking happily down a corridor, carrying an absurd amount of decorations.

"Dobby?"

Dobby whipped around and smiled at McGonagall. "Professor McGonagall!" he squeaked. "You is out very late."

"Hardly," McGonagall argued. She quickly studied the contents of the elf's arms and tried to convince herself that she did not see baubles with Harry Potter's face on them. "Where are you going with all that, Dobby? The castle's decorations are finished."

"Dobby is decorating for himself, Professor McGonagall!" Dobby said with a smile that was not all together convincing.

"Well try not to trip over anything," McGonagall cautioned. She watched the elf disappear around a corner before continuing her way to Dumbledore's office.

"Ah, Minerva!" Dumbledore greeted warmly. "In light of upcoming holidays, I've taken the liberty of turning our chess pieces red and green, as opposed to black and white."

McGonagall took her usual seat across Dumbledore, but did not look to admire his work on the chessboard. "They're still meeting."

"Who?" Dumbledore asked, making the first move of the game.

"That defense group! The one Potter, Weasley, and Granger started in the Hog's Head!"

"Has Gryffindor found replacements for Harry, Fred, and George?" Dumbledore asked casually.

"Yes. Ginny, Andrew Kirke, and Jack Sloper, and I'm sure they'll all do well, but you're trying to distract me from my point and I won't have it!" McGonagall took a deep breath, both of necessity from her spiel and to calm herself slightly. "That group is still meeting, Albus."

"What gives you that impression?" Dumbledore asked, still looking at the Christmas decorated board before him.

"Well I've thought they might be meeting the entire term. I've heard them whispering about 'the D.A.', whatever that might stand for, but I was sure they wouldn't be able to _actually _meet regularly and keep it as much of a secret as they have. Until just now," McGonagall said, moving a pawn forward with unwarranted aggression.

"Students of Hogwarts have a remarkable ability to hide things, if they work with the right people."

"They've been working with Dobby," McGonagall said unhappily.

Dumbledore glanced up from the board. "Is that so?"

"I'm sure of it! Clever as that trio might be when they put their brains together, there's no way they'd be able to regularly meet with nearly thirty students to practice spellwork and keep it quiet, but with Dobby…. He's proven himself quite capable of pulling off marvelous stunts like this."

"What has made you draw the conclusion that Dobby is assisting this group?"

"He's putting up Christmas decorations for them," McGonagall answered dully. "I just saw him in the corridor carrying baubles with Potter's face on them."

Dumbledore's face lit up with a smile. "He's quite amusing, that Dobby. Did you follow him?"

"No," McGonagall said. "Dobby's just as loyal to Potter as Weasley, I think, if not more. I sincerely doubt even _you_ could get him to give them up."

"I'm rather offended," Dumbledore said casually.

"You _need_ to talk to Harry, Albus," McGonagall said desperately. "He's got to be made to understand how dire the consequences of this group might be! You're the only one that could possibly get through to him."

"We both know that my speaking with Harry at this current point in time is not a good idea," Dumbledore countered.

"No, _you_ _think_ it's not a good idea," McGonagall snorted. "The boy's already been banned from Quidditch, he's nearly been caught communicating with a fugitive, he barely escaped getting expelled over the summer – he can't afford another crisis! All the other students don't stand out, as far as I know. They can simply walk away."

"Much though I may agree with you that Harry leading a defense group with Dolores in the castle is not a good idea, we cannot hope to stop him without concrete evidence of what he is doing. As you've pointed out, there's nothing we could try that would get Miss Granger or Mr. Weasley to tell us what's going on, Dobby won't give up any information, and we don't know with any certainty who else might be in the group," Dumbledore argued.

"They're going to slip up, Albus, and it'll cause chaos! They've _got _to be stopped!"

"I thought you'd rather like the idea of a rebellious group coming together to learn the subject in which they are not being adequately instructed," said Dumbledore.

"I'd be lying if I said I weren't proud that they formed the idea and have executed it so well for so long," McGonagall admitted, "but they're beginning to show carelessness."

"I'm sure that simply by catching Dobby on his way to decorate, you've instilled fear back into their hearts," Dumbledore reasoned. "They'll return to their cautious ways."

McGonagall stared blankly at the chessboard for a time before rising decidedly. "I'm going to go find them," she said. "They must be somewhere on the seventh floor, and I'm going to find them."

"No, Minerva," Dumbledore countered, "you're not."

"I quite disagree," McGonagall snapped and began heading for the door.

"Educational Decree Number Twenty-five," Dumbledore began, "states that the Hogwarts High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and – "

McGonagall sat down heavily in her chair again. "You've made your point," she said sourly.

"It's your move," said Dumbledore, nodding at the board.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Sorry for being such a sucky author, my lovelies. …I may or may not have meant to update this two weeks ago… and such a task may or may not have continually evaded getting done… … … … oops.

Hope you enjoyed! Review!


	87. Chapter 87

_**Eighty-Seven – The Eye of the Snake; St. Mungo's Hospital For Magical Maladies and Injuries**_

"Professor!" called a distant voice impatiently, accompanied by merciless pounding. "Professor – "

McGonagall pulled herself up from her bed too quickly and, for a moment, could only see black and white dots and only hear her own blood pulsing.

"_Professor!" _the insistent voice shouted. "Professor, you've got to get up! Harry's not well! He's muttering about Ron's dad and blood and – "

McGonagall did not recall moving from her bed to her door, but in a flash stood in her doorframe looking down at Neville Longbottom. "What's the issue, Longbottom?" she asked, squinting. She had left her glasses on her bedside table.

"Harry was thrashing around in his bed like mad, and Ron woke him up, and he threw up and then started telling Ron that Mr. Weasley had been attacked – Professor, something's _really_ wrong!" Neville finished.

"Wait here," McGonagall ordered, her mind quickly kicking into overdrive. She flew back into her room and snatched her glasses, wand, and bathrobe. "Lead on, Longbottom," she said, nearly poking herself in the eye as she jammed on her glasses. As Neville took off, she began stuffing her arms into her bathrobe.

By the time Neville shouted the password at the Fat Lady, McGonagall felt as if her heart were ready to burst, it was pumping so furiously from trying to keep up with him. Despite a certain tightness in her chest, McGonagall followed Neville up the stairs of the boys' tower, taking two steps at a time.

"**Over here, Professor…" **said Neville after throwing open the door.

McGonagall strode to the side of Harry's bed, opposite Ron. **"What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt?" **she asked frantically, desperately hoping that Harry was actually sick, rather than what she feared.

"**It's Ron's dad," **said Harry, showing his incredibly pale face covered in sweat and sick. **"He's been attacked by a snake and it's serious, I saw it happen."**

Somehow, McGonagall's heart began to beat more ferociously. **"What do you mean, you saw it happen?"**

"**I don't know…. I was asleep and then I was there…"**

"_There? No, no, no!" _McGonagall thought desperately. Hoping against hope, McGonagall continued her questioning. **"You mean you dreamed this?"**

"**No!" said Harry angrily. "I was having a dream at first about something completely different, something stupid…and then this interrupted it. It was real, I didn't imagine it, Mr. Weasley was asleep on the floor and he was attacked by a gigantic snake, there was a load of blood, he collapsed, someone's got to find out where he is…" **

McGonagall simply froze. It was happening. It could not be much longer before You-Know-Who figured out what happened, and that doors open from both sides…

"**I'm not lying, and I'm not mad!" **Harry insisted, his voice growing louder. **"I tell you, I saw it happen!"**

McGonagall felt her tongue unlock. **"I believe you, Potter. Put on your dressing-gown – we're going to see the headmaster."**

Harry leapt out of bed, threw on his robe, and shoved his glasses onto his face.

"**Weasley, you ought to come too," said Professor McGonagall. **She briefly entertained the idea of gathering the rest of the Weasleys, but time was of the essence. If what Harry said was true, Arthur's time was running woefully short.

McGonagall left the tower, Harry and Ron in pursuit. At one point, Mrs. Norris saw the small group and set her malignant eyes on the professor as she began to hiss. **"Shoo!" **McGonagall bit out. The cat returned to the shadows, undoubtedly to report to Filch, who very well might report to Umbridge. McGonagall picked up pace slightly.

"**Fizzing Whizbee," **McGonagall said to the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office. She could feel her heartbeat in her fingertips once more. She threw aside all thoughts of her physical pain and stepped onto the moving staircase, willing it to move faster.

McGonagall gripped the griffin knocker of Dumbledore's door and pounded with it three times. The headmasters, the dead and the living, that had been speaking silenced at once, and the door opened.

"**Oh, it's you, Professor McGonagall…and…**_**ah**_**," **said Dumbledore, quickly glancing at Ron's shocking red hair before returning his attention to his deputy.

Not wanting to waste any time, McGonagall dove right in, **"Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a…well, a nightmare. He says…"**

"**It wasn't a nightmare," said Harry quickly. **

McGonagall turned to look at Harry, the corners of her lips pulling into a frown. Fearing the situation might only escalate by letting Harry communicate with Dumbledore directly, she spoke again, **"Very well, then, Potter, you tell the headmaster about it." **Time, or a lack thereof, was more important at the moment than keeping peace.

Dumbledore looked down at his fingers as Harry began his tale. Certain that no attention was on herself, McGonagall stepped out of her students' line of sight and set some of her weight against a wall, taking slow, deep breaths. The fingers of her left hand twitched, and she quickly wound them into her hair, feeling her pulse even in her scalp and becoming more and more certain she would soon have a massive headache.

"**I was the snake," **said Harry in response to one of Dumbledore's questions. **"I saw it all from the snake's point of view…."**

McGonagall's attention snapped back to the discussion before her, incongruities beginning to manifest themselves. How could Harry possibly have seen things through the snake's eyes? His connection was with You-Know-Who, not a pet, terrifying as the pet might be.

"**Is Arthur seriously injured?" **Dumbledore asked, his tones now cutting as opposed to soothing, though he still failed to look at Harry directly.

"_**Yes," **_**said Harry emphatically. **

Dumbledore stood in the blink of an eye. **"Everard?" he said sharply. "And you too, Dilys!"**

Two of the slumbering heads opened their eyes.

McGonagall pulled herself from the wall back to her original position as Dumbledore dispatched the two former heads to find Arthur. She glared daggers at Dumbledore as he went on about how Everard and Dilys could flit between their other portraits. It was not a history lesson that was needed at the moment.

Harry seemed to feel the same way, as he burst, **"But Mr. Weasley could be anywhere!"**

"**Please sit down, all three of you," said Dumbledore, as though Harry had not spoken. "Everard and Dilys may not be back for several minutes…."**

McGonagall very nearly snapped at that point. Arthur was the father of seven children, and sole provider for the family. Stealth be hanged, he needed to be found as quickly as possible.

Dumbledore must have sensed his deputy's growing unease, as he distracted her discreetly. **"Professor McGonagall, if you could draw up extra chairs…"**

McGonagall whipped out her wand and produced three chairs simultaneously. Once sure that Harry was seated without issue, McGonagall fell into her own chair with as much grace as she could manage in her current state.

Dumbledore set Fawkes to keep watch, undoubtedly on Umbridge, then pulled out one of his various silver instruments and brought it to life with the tap of his wand. McGonagall watched intently. Dumbledore had yet to show her how his various trinkets worked. Such lessons would have to wait, however. A war was brewing, after all.

Just as Dumbledore was putting his trinket back into its proper place, Everard returned.

"**Dumbledore!"**

"**What news?" said Dumbledore at once. **

Everard rattled off his report, ending by saying that Mr. Weasley did not look well at all, that the man was covered in blood.

McGonagall stole a glance at Ron as the boy twitched horribly at the news.

"**Good," said Dumbledore, "I take it Dilys will have seen him arrive, then – "**

McGonagall waited with baited breath for what seemed like a quarter of an hour before Dilys returned, though she knew in truth it would have only been a few minutes.

"**Yes, they've taken him to St. Mungo's, Dumbledore…. They carried him past under my portrait…. He looks bad…" **said Dilys.

"**Thank you," said Dumbledore**_**. **_He turned toward McGonagall. **"Minerva, I need you to go and wake the other Weasley children."**

"**Of course…" **said McGonagall somewhat faintly. Once at the door, however, McGonagall's knees locked and she turned her head around. **"And Dumbledore – what about Molly?" **

"**That will be a job for Fawkes when he has finished keeping a lookout for anybody approaching," said Dumbledore. "But she may already know…that excellent clock of hers…"**

McGonagall closed Dumbledore's door and drowned her thoughts of poor Mrs. Weasley by focusing on her newest task.

"Minerva!" came an uncharacteristic bark.

McGonagall doubled back slightly to see Snape striding down a hall toward her.

"What's happened?" he demanded, gripping his left forearm.

McGonagall glanced over her shoulders quickly. "Arthur's been attacked while on guard duty," she said very quietly. "He's at St. Mungo's now. I'm off to get the rest of the Weasleys – "

"St. Mungo's?" Snape said confusedly. "You mean he's not dead?"

McGonagall punched Snape in the shoulder. "No! If we're lucky he'll _stay _not dead!"

"Then it wasn't the Dark Lord that attacked him?"

"Evidently not!" McGonagall snapped. She looked at his right hand gripping his left arm. "'I'll cover for you for the toad, if she asks, and let Dumbledore know."

Snape nodded curtly and the two professors went their separate ways.

McGonagall burst into the Gryffindor common room and took half a moment to calm herself before climbing the boys' staircase to wake the twins.

"Weasley!" she whispered, gently shaking Fred's shoulder.

Fred opened his eyes and seemed about ready to make a jest until he caught the look on his professor's face. "Is something wrong, Professor?"

"Wake George _quietly_ and get down to the common room. Put on your dressing gowns and slippers."

McGonagall did not waste another moment, but hurried down the boys' staircase and up the girls' to wake Ginny, which proved to be a much more difficult task than waking Fred. Ginny remained breathing evenly even after McGonagall had shaken her shoulder and called to her several times.

"Miss Weasley!" McGonagall snapped, still at a whisper, trying her hardest not to wake any other students. "Get up, now! Your father's been injured."

That got Ginny's attention quickly enough. She leapt out of bed and ran down to the common room without her robe. McGonagall snatched it for her and handed it to the girl as she led the way back to the headmaster's office, half the Weasley brood trailing behind her.

"What do you mean, Dad's been injured?" Ginny asked shrewdly the moment the portrait hole shut.

"Potter witnessed your farther being attacked. He's safely at St. Mungo's now," she added quickly, "but he's not in good shape."

All three Weasleys began asking questions at once.

"Enough!" McGonagall snapped, desperate to be rid of whatever noise she could avoid. "Professor Dumbledore will answer your questions once we get to his office!"

Soon enough, McGonagall showed the twins and Ginny into the headmaster's office.

"**Harry – what's going on?" asked Ginny** as soon as she was through the door. **"Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad hurt – "**

"**Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore. "He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there."**

As Dumbledore showed the students the portkey he had made, McGonagall could not help but dismay at the idea of defending his illegal move once the dust of Arthur's disaster had settled.

Flame flashed for a moment and a feather slipped through the air toward the floor.

"**It is Fawkes's warning," said Dumbledore, catching the feather as it fell. "She must know you're out of your beds…. Minerva, go and head her off – tell her any story – "**

Without hesitation, McGonagall turned and left the office. Rules and consequences be hanged. Dolores Umbridge would _not _stop the Weasleys from leaving.

"Oh, Professor McGonagall!"

McGonagall glared at Umbridge and the filthy woman's bright pink nightgown. The horrid frog had taken the exact path McGonagall had expected – one that involved no secret passages or hidden doors.

"Dolores," McGonagall said tightly.

"What on earth are you doing out and about at this hour?" Umbridge asked sweetly.

"I could ask you the same question, Dolores."

Umbridge sighed dramatically. "Very well, Minerva, as it seems you're in no mood to play games…." The woman's smile melted away, making her look more frog-like than ever. "Where have you taken Potter and Weasley?"

A thousand excuses flew through McGonagall's mind in half a second. "Weasley's ill," she said confidently. "Longbottom got me from my office, and I brought Weasley to Poppy. What with break only two days away, I thought it might be best to send Weasley home, rather than have him infect all the rest of the students and send them home sick, but Poppy's going to look him over first."

"And I suppose Mr. Potter's gone with him, then?" Umbridge said, her forced smile creeping back onto her face.

"Weasley threw up on the boy. There's no chance Potter will avoid catching whatever Weasley's got at this point," McGonagall explained. She braced herself for the next question.

"And you decided to rouse the rest of the gingers while you were at it?" Umbridge asked, her smile becoming more fixed with each second.

McGonagall felt her wand hand twitch. "In my considerable experience, Dolores, if one child is sick, their siblings aren't far behind. Yes, I sent the rest of the Weasleys to the hospital wing, also."

"How convenient that they should get sick tonight," Umbridge said with a false air of carelessness, and she began walking once more toward Dumbledore's office.

Desperate for more time, and eager to lessen any damage possible, McGonagall decided to play the fool. "What do you mean by that?"

"Haven't you heard?" asked Umbridge sweetly.

"Heard what, Dolores?" McGonagall asked. "I was woken by Longbottom's summons and I've been volleying between Gryffindor Tower and the hospital wing since."

"Oh, no matter. I'm sure you'll learn soon enough."

"What news could there possibly be to hear at this hour?" McGonagall asked.

Umbridge stopped, sighed heavily, turned to face McGonagall once more, and stepped toward the Transfiguration professor.

"What reason could there possibly be for Arthur Weasley to be at the Ministry at this hour?"

McGonagall felt her heart skip a beat, but succeeded in hiding such a hiccup from Umbridge. "I can't even think of a reason for Mr. Weasley to be up, much less so than for him to be at the Ministry."

"Indeed," said Umbridge. "Well, I see no harm in telling you, Minerva. Arthur's gone and gotten himself torn up, and right outside the Department of Mysteries. Tell me, what would he, who spends all his time with his Muggle toys, be doing down there?"

Despite everything going on, McGonagall found it difficult not to laugh as Umbridge tried to glare intimidatingly at her. The toad just barely passed her hips.

"What do you mean, _torn up_?" McGonagall queried.

"I haven't a clue. I've just been told where he was found, sitting in a pool of his own blood."

McGonagall felt her own blood rush at the realization that Umbridge seemed to be _enjoying_ Mr. Weasley's grievous injury.

To keep with the ruse, however, McGonagall let her eyes widen in shock. "They've got to be told," she said faintly before rushing off, back toward Dumbledore's office. She walked furiously until certain she was out of Umbridge's sight, then continued at her own pace, confident the toad's short legs would work to her advantage.

When McGonagall entered Dumbledore's office again, only the headmaster was present. "She's coming," she warned.

"She's too late," said Dumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. "They're safely off."

"Ron Weasley threw up on Potter, and I couldn't have the whole of Gryffindor getting sick two days before break, so I brought them to Poppy and suggested sending them home," McGonagall informed. "At this juncture, I believe it's safe to say Poppy agreed to sending them home. You also agreed, and decided to ship off Ginny, Fred, and George as well, as a precautionary measure. Also, she thinks I heard about Arthur from her."

Dumbledore bowed his head slightly toward McGonagall, then picked up the sham where McGonagall had left it, all for Umbridge's benefit.

"Minerva, I haven't a clue what ill luck has befallen Arthur, but I am confident that the healers of St. Mungo's will see to his needs," Dumbledore was saying when Umbridge strode in to the office without invitation.

"So you've heard?" Umbridge asked furiously.

"Yes, of course," said Dumbledore. "Dilys has a portrait at St. Mungo's she likes to visit. She saw Arthur come in and knew that he had children here. Naturally, she informed me immediately.

"And the Weasley children?" Umbridge prompted.

"Minerva and Poppy were quite right in their reasoning about Mr. Ron Weasley. Even if Mr. Weasley had not been injured, we can't have all the students going back home to their families sick. Mr. Potter and the Weasleys will only miss a few days of class. They'll catch up on their work and be back in January, ready for another semester, and this way they'll be able to see their father as soon as he's stabilized."

"That is not the point, Dumbledore!"

"I was going to inform you once I had the chance to change and shower," said Dumbledore calmly. "I'm afraid Mr. Weasley did not completely empty the contents of his stomach back in his dormitory. While I have already cleaned my rug, I have not had a chance to clean myself, and I would hate to get you sick, Dolores."

"Have you no concern for getting sick yourself?" Umbridge countered.

Dumbledore smiled. "I've been here so long, Dolores, I doubt if anything can get me sick anymore."

"And you?" Umbridge asked, rounding on McGonagall.

"I've spent all but thirteen years of my life here, Dolores," McGonagall answered. "I've gotten just about any illness you can get. As it is your first year here, however, I highly recommend that you go back to your quarters, shower, and send your clothes off to be washed before it's too late."

Umbridge gave a prissy huff, then left the office, slamming the door behind her.

McGonagall heaved a sigh of relief. "Any updates on Arthur?" she asked, leaning back in her chair.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Bill's joined Molly. They're waiting for news.

"Marvelous cover story, by the way, Minerva," Dumbledore continued. "I think we've had enough excitement for the night."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Really? From where I stand, we've still got a lot of work to do! The rest of the Order has to be notified, a cover story for Arthur's got to be arranged – "

"Minerva, go to bed."

"Oh, and Severus was called, so he's gone for the night – "

"Minerva!"

"I am _not_ going to bed until I know if Arthur's going to make it or not!" McGonagall snapped. She stood and took a deep breath. "I'm going to go leave a note for Granger to see you first thing in the morning, then I will wake Madame Bones to inform her of the situation and have her wait to alter any documents that might need doctoring to help keep whatever cover you come up with for Arthur. Once that's done, I will notify the rest of the guard so they can begin working to cover Arthur's shifts. Then, if there's been any news on Arthur, I will go to sleep.

"What should I tell the rest of the staff?" McGonagall asked.

"If they have questions, I will answer them," Dumbledore replied.

"As you answered Harry's?"

"You are trying my patience, Minerva," Dumbledore warned, the twinkle missing from his eyes.

"Well someone's got to get you back for all the patience _you_ try, old man," McGonagall said with a sigh. "No matter how many times you explain it to me, Albus, I don't know if I'll ever come to your way of thinking on the subject, and I still think you should talk to the boy."

"As you've made abundantly clear," said Dumbledore, relaxing once more. "And, if I may, you've no right to call me old."

"Is that so?" McGonagall queried with a quirked brow. "Remind me what year you were born in?"

"You nearly collapsed brining Harry and Ron up here."

"I did no such thing," McGonagall snapped quickly.

"They might not have been able to see you, Minerva, but I could," said Dumbledore. "Are you alright?"

McGonagall drew her eyebrows together and crossed her arms. "Do you really want to open that can of flobberworms, Albus?"

"Very well," Dumbledore conceded. "If you're going to be so snappy about it, I won't push the matter. For my own peace of mind, however, please go see Poppy tomorrow."

McGonagall felt her nostrils flare. "I've got a list of things to tend to, and I'm sure you do also," she said as she made for the door.

"So long as you add seeing Poppy to your list, I'm – "

McGonagall closed the door before Dumbledore could finish his sentence and muttered to herself the entire way back to her office.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Yaaaaaaay drama! Next chapter will provide a bit of relief. ;)

I'm eager to know what you thought of the chapter, so you should consider clicking that little "review" thing.


	88. Chapter 88

_**Eighty-Eight – Christmas On the Closed Ward; **_

Dumbledore

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Umbridge**

* * *

><p>The castle is so pleasantly quiet once all the students leave.<p>

_Oh, hush, Pomona. You'll be losing you mind within the next twenty-four hours because you won't have anything to do._

False!

_Shall we place a bet then, Filius?_

Oi! You stay out of it! You've got no room to talk on the subject.

_I, at least, admit that I like having things to do._

Are we going to start that fight now?

Come, now! Are you going to start bickering this early into break?

_Oh, do you feel left out? I could very easily bicker with you instead of Pomona, if you prefer._

You shouldn't be bickering at all, Minerva, if what -

_Don't you do it, Albus. Don't you bring it up!_

Oh, please do bright it up! I'm quite interested to know what it is.

Very well, Minerva. For the sake of not aggravating the situation further, I will not bring it up. Just know that I know.

_What'd you do? Torture Poppy until she relented and told you that ridiculous theory she's come up with?_

No, I needn't try that hard. After all, I make sure Poppy gets paid.

_Infuriating old man…_

And her theory is NOT ridiculous. You know just as well as I that it is, in fact, very likely. You simply refuse to acknowledge it, which is very foolish indeed.

Come on, now! Quit batting around the subject and just tell me the secret!

_Heaven's sake, Pomona!_

Fine! Don't tell me. I'll find out what it is on my own. I'm a particularly good finder, you know.

_Finder? Is that even a word?_

If you doubt me, go look through your Muggle books and come back when you have an answer.

_I will not descend to your level and indulge your desire for a fight, Pomona. _

**It seems as though any time I drop in on a conversation, someone is fighting.**

_Just friendly banter amongst colleagues, Dolores. _

**It hardly seems friendly from where I'm standing.**

_Perhaps you should try looking from higher ground._

**Wh - **

_Any new on Arthur Weasley, Albus?_

I've been told Arthur's doing quite well, actually. The healers are hoping that they'll be able to send him off in time for Christmas.

With a wound as bad as his? Christmas is in two days! How do they intend on getting him home that soon?

Well, he is still bleeding, but once that's –

STILL BLEEDING? The man's still bleeding and they think they're going to get him home for Christmas? That seems about as likely as the Chudley Canons winning the Quidditch World Cup. Mrs. Weasley best plan on packing the clan up for a trip to St. Mungo's on Christmas, in my opinion.

As I was saying, before I was interrupted – Arthur is still bleeding, but he's doing very well besides that. Apparently, his attacker's fangs had some sort of ghastly venom that the healers have yet to figure out.

**Honestly, a giant snake in the Ministry of Magic? What a tale. **

_It must have blended in quite well, surrounded by so many of its kind in that building. _

**And just what do you mean by THAT, Minerva?**

_I thought it was quite self-explanatory, Dolores._

_Look at the time! Lunch will be open in ten minutes!_

I'd advise not being late. The house elves tell me they've made ginger bread cookies, and they taste best fresh.

_Best not let the students staying over break eat all of them, then._

* * *

><p>The staffroom was alive with the sound of laughter, a bit of singing, and the occasional <em>pop<em> from a game of Exploding Snape being played in a corner.

"Who's in for Gobstones?" asked Burbage cheerfully, shaking a bag above her head. "Filius? Severus? Aurora?" She succeeded in dragging Flitwick, Sinistra, and even Madam Pomfrey into her game.

McGonagall sat on a couch, content to simply sit, relax, and enjoy the sights of her coworkers letting loose. In truth, she could have closed her eyes and fallen asleep to the sounds around her, but knew she would regret it upon waking up. Those who had the misfortune to fall asleep at staff gatherings almost always seemed to wake up with some sort of ink on their face that was very difficult to remove.

Snape had reclined in an armchair on McGonagall's right, his face completely obscured by a brown book lacking any sort of identifying feature, including a title. He and McGonagall alone had neglected to join some group or another that had formed to celebrate the holiday.

"A book at a Christmas party? What's the sense in joining us if you're not going to interact with us?" asked Madam Hooch loudly from behind Snape. She reached over the back of his chair and snatched his book from him. "A potions book? You're reading at a party and you didn't even bring a fun book?"

"Well we can't all be loud and obnoxious, now can we?" Snape retorted, holding out his hand for his book.

Hooch tossed the book back at Snape carelessly, nearly hitting him in the face. She sat down on the coffee table between Snape and McGonagall and made herself comfortable, roughly shoving several magazines on the floor to make room. McGonagall noticed the flight instructor smelled lightly of smoke from a game of Exploding Snap.

"What's brought you over here to disturb the peace, Rolanda?" McGonagall asked.

"Septima won the game, so I had to go elsewhere and join a group in which I _wouldn't _be the loser," Hooch said with a shrug of her shoulder.

"Very funny," said Snape dully.

"Honestly! You two know it's alright to have a bit of fun, don't you?"

"Of course," said McGonagall. "Our idea of fun is sitting here, judging the rest of you and making fun of you behind your backs."

"Very clever, Minerva," said Hooch disapprovingly. She quickly looked around the room. "Where's Albus? He's got the party crackers."

"He had to go see someone," McGonagall answered with a yawn. She checked her pocket watch. "I'm sure he'll be back soon. You need not fear. You'll be able to embarrass Severus by jamming some ridiculous hat or another onto his head before the night is over."

"Good," said Hooch. "I should hate to break tradition."

Snape's lip curled into a snarl. "Your tradition is ridiculous, foolish, and stupid."

"Everything you're not," Hooch came back with quickly. "That's what makes it so fun."

Snape muttered something inaudible and stuck his nose back into his book.

Hooch rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to McGonagall. "So Poppy tells me that I should ban you from the Quidditch pitch for the rest of term."

McGonagall pivoted in her seat to glare at Madam Pomfrey. The matron seemed to have expected such a move, as she only smiled at the transfiguration mistress and waved.

"Honestly, with the toad here, day to day activities are stressful enough. I'm certainly glad that I don't have to deal with her all day like you lot do."

"Your concern is touching, Rolanda, truly," McGonagall said dryly, "but I can handle myself at a Quidditch match. I've been to a few in my life."

"Perhaps I should see about having the toad ban you, then. She seems to have a knack for dealing with hot-tempered Gryffindors," said Hooch with a raised eyebrow.

McGonagall furrowed her brows and consciously avoided taking the bait. "If you talk about her enough, she'll hear you and heed the summons."

"Is that so?" Hooch challenged. "Toad. Frog. Umbridge. Ministry Puppet. Embodiment of All That is Horrible in the World. Dolores. Fudge's Pet. Fudge's Frog – Oh, there's one I haven't thought of before! I rather like the ring of that. Fudge's Frog," the flight instructor half-sang. "Fudge's Frog. Fudge's Frog."

The door opened and Umbridge, garbed in all her pink glory, strode in.

"I warned you!" McGonagall snapped, throwing a pillow at Hooch.

Hooch swore under her breath and retreated to a far corner of the room.

Umbridge gave the entire room a sweeping glance, no doubt taking note of who was in attendance, and then headed straight for Flitwick, who had just gotten shot in the face by a gobstone.

"Oh, no," McGonagall said lowly.

Snape pulled the book away from his face long enough to notice Umbridge sitting by Flitwick. "Goblin blood?" he asked.

"Goblin blood," McGonagall confirmed after watching the smile melt off Flitwick's face.

Flitwick looked less and less like his usual cheerful self the longer the conversation went on, and Umbridge's toad-like features became more pronounced as her sadistic grin widened.

"Oh, she infuriates me!" McGonagall hissed, pounding her fist into the cushion beside herself.

"Tell me something I _don't _already know, Minerva," said Snape from behind his book.

"Don't you care that she's attacking Filius?"

"I'm not terribly concerned," Snape admitted. "I know you'll address the situation soon enough." He set the book down on his lap. "Really, this could work out very well for me. If you lose your temper now, not only will you save Filius from Umbridge's wrath and from moving up her To-Be-Sacked list, you'll make the top of the list yourself. If I'm _truly_ lucky, she'll send you off tonight."

"Charming, Severus," McGonagall snarled.

"You know how I try."

"Hot Potato!" shouted someone from the back of the room.

McGonagall groaned internally and checked her pocket watch again. "Hot Potato" was one of the phrases she most hated to hear, as it meant someone had rigged a dungbomb to go off after ninety seconds. In those ninety seconds, everyone lived in fear of the dungbomb exploding on them, and thus they propelled it from their possession quickly and with force, often resulting in injury for the receiving party. There was also, of course, the one very unhappy person who, at the end of ninety seconds, would have to leave in disgrace to go shower and change their robes.

As she watched the dungbomb get thrown from person to person, however, McGonagall's thoughts began to turn vindictive and cruel. Such a game was the perfect setup to make Umbridge leave – a fact she could not have been the first to notice.

With thirty seconds left, Umbridge was still busy interrogating Flitwick and was seemingly unaware of the chaos around her. At twenty seconds, the dungbomb began to work its way closer to the toad.

"Severus, catch!" exclaimed Burbage, who, along with Sinistra, had managed to relocate a whole fifteen feet from the table at which Flitwick and Umbridge sat. Madam Pomfrey had worked her way to the opposite side of the room entirely.

The dungbomb landed in Snape's lap, and he lazily picked it up and deposited it into McGonagall's.

McGonagall looked to her target, but then saw Sprout waving off to the side. Much though she might like to hit Umbridge with a dungbomb, McGonagall could not deny Sprout the pleasure. Sprout, more than anyone else on staff, hated her coworkers being attacked, though she controlled her rage better than some.

Sprout caught the bomb and pivoted toward Flitwick and Umbridge. "You're up, Filius!" she called gleefully.

The dungbomb soared through the air. Flitwick, upon seeing the flying object, ducked on a reflex, as everyone knew he would.

The dungbomb exploded, hitting Umbridge square in the face.

Silence covered the staffroom. Several instructors had covered their mouths with their hands, others turned away to keep from laughing.

"Oh, Dolores, I'm so _sorry_!" Sprout spewed convincingly, stepping toward Umbridge and pulling a handkerchief, for all the good it would do, from up her sleeve. "Honestly, I was aiming to get Filius!"

Umbridge stopped Sprout's advance with a cold glare, then ran a hand down her face to remove some of the muck. "I now see," she said with displeasure, "why it is there is such a discipline problem in this school!"

Without further ado, Umbridge rose from her seat and exited.

The silence continued for another moment or so before Professor Vector exclaimed, "All hail Rolanda, our savior!"

As clapping began, Hooch waved off her praise. "I have a confession. It was I that brought her presence down upon us in the first place," she sighed. "I listed too many of her titles. Her ego felt such a thing and drew her to us."

"Boo!" shouted Sinistra, and she threw a gobstone playfully.

"Come now, let's not go stoning people!" said Flitwick. "The situation has been handled, regardless of its origin, and for that, I thank you all."

"Really, I think I deserve the most praise," said Sprout loftily.

"Yes, yes, Hufflepuff. Very good aim," said Pomfrey, a glass of something or other that was not water in her hand.

"Oi! Watch it!" Sprout warned.

As the staff settled back in to their festivities, Flitwick abandoned Gobstones and joined McGonagall on the couch. "The _nerve!_" he began. "As if I can help what happened so many generations ago! Merlin's beard! In the Muggle world they'd just call me an acrondoplasiac and be done with it!"

"If it's any consolation, Muggle 'dwarves' don't have it terribly easy, either," McGonagall said. She felt strangely calm, considering the events.

"Well she's gotten me and Hagrid now," Flitwick continued to fume, his tiny body heaving with his attempts at deep breathing. "I'll bet you she comes after you and Poppy next for having a Muggle or two for a parent!"

"Let her come," McGonagall snarled, her calm evaporating quickly. "I dare her to insult my father. See what becomes of it."

"Do you know what she asked me?" Flitwick burst. "Do you _know?_"

McGonagall took a deep breath. It would not serve to have both her _and _Filius in a rage. The two of them in such a state would be highly unstable, and they would end up doing something foolish that would get not only themselves, but the whole staff in to a heap of trouble.

"What's she got into her head now?" McGonagall asked evenly.

"She asked if I'd been plotting with the goblins on some sort of revolution!" Flitwick squeaked in outrage. "_Me_, plotting to overthrow the Ministry? _Me_, trying to bring down the wizarding world? What a joke! An insult! Even if the goblins _were_ planning something, how am I to know? I've no contact with any of them and I'm here at Hogwarts day and night, working to educate the next generation of witches and wizards!"

McGonagall simply sat and listened to Flitwick until he had raged out his energy and became calm once more.

"I'm sorry to lose my temper like that," Flitwick said eventually, collapsed against the back of the couch.

"You've every right to," said McGonagall. "Only the most evil of creatures can throw _you _in to such a fit. I'm surprised you hadn't lost it before now."

"Oh, I've been sorely tempted," Flitwick admitted. "Is the Ministry truly so insecure that they see a threat in _everything_?"

McGonagall gave Flitwick a sideways look.

Flitwick sighed. "Well, then. They'll implode before too long. Fudge can only spread his resources so thin until they break."

"Won't that be a fine day?" McGonagall asked. She poured herself and Flitwick each a glass of firewhiskey.

"I believe it will," said Flitwick with a smile, taking the glass offered him.

"Perhaps you're a revolutionary after all, Filius," McGonagall said with a smile and a raised brow.

"May Fudge's and Umbridge's reign be short-lived," said Flitwick, raising his drink. He and McGonagall clinked their glasses together, then downed their beverages in a single gulp.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

What? An update? And it hasn't even been a month? Man, I am _such_ a boss! :P

Hope you enjoyed the humorous break from the constant drama that is The Order of the Phoenix. It won't last.

Leave a review!


	89. Chapter 89

_**Eighty-Nine – Occlumency; The Beetle at Bay**_

"Nothing you say will ever convince me that it was a wise decision to have Severus try to teach Harry Occlumency," McGonagall said, seated across a chessboard from Dumbledore.

"Minerva, do you trust me or not?" Dumbledore asked as he studied the board.

"Of course I trust you," McGonagall answered, "but just because I trust you doesn't mean I'll blindly agree with every decision you ever make. Blind obedience causes nothing but trouble."

Dumbledore shrugged in consideration. "You make a fair point. However, it - "

"Does nothing to change your mind," McGonagall finished. "I know. You're not changing mine, either, though."

"Then we are at an impasse."

"Check mate," McGonagall said, smiling.

Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his chair. "You got lucky. I would have had you in another three moves."

"Luck had nothing to do with it, Albus," McGonagall said haughtily. "In other news, they're going to meet within the next couple of days."

"Who?" Dumbledore asked absentmindedly as he began putting his chessboard away.

"Potter, Weasley, and Granger's defense group," McGonagall said with a roll of her eyes. "Filius says he witnessed several students approach Harry and ask when they'll be meeting next. With luck, Filius was the only one that paid attention."

"But you doubt it," Dumbledore stated.

"Much as I would love to see Dolores's insides become her outsides, I cannot deny she has a knack for sensing the threats about her and coming up with dubious ways to address said threats."

"I've just had a strange premonition," said Dumbledore as he replaced the chessboard back on a shelf. "You're going to suggest I speak to Mr. Potter about the group."

"Brilliant deduction," McGonagall quipped.

"I'm not having this discussion again, Minerva."

"Fine. I'll converse with myself, then," McGonagall declared. "Aloud."

"Have you noticed that Tonks has been switching assignments with others left and right?" Dumbledore asked. "Somehow, she frequently ends up going places with Remus."

"That's not fair!" McGonagall burst. "You _know_ I can't refuse to discuss that topic!"

Dumbledore smiled mischievously. "I know nothing of the sort."

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "Molly told you that she talked to me about it, didn't she?"

"Oh, no," said Dumbledore, shaking his head. "Arthur told me that Molly had discussed it with you."

"Men," McGonagall muttered. "Everyone always says that it's women that do the gossiping. What a load of – "

The door to the office opened and slammed shut. Snape, cloak billowing behind him, strode to Dumbledore's desk. "There is _no_ hope," he declared. "Potter will _never_ be able to master Occlumency!"

"You've only had one session with him, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly.

"And that's all I need to know that this plan will fail dramatically. He _wants_ to continue having these dreams of his. He believes them to be useful," Snape snarled, his arms crossed.

"I find that doubtful," Dumbledore countered, looking over his glasses at the potions master.

"No, Severus has a point," McGonagall conceded, scooting to the edge of her chair. "If Harry hadn't seen Arthur's attack…. He's so close to the Weasleys that it'll take a good deal of work to convince him that his visions are a problem."

"I tried to explain the danger to him," said Snape through tight lips, "but it's quite difficult to get anything through that remarkably thick head of his."

"The issue may not be the information, but who is _presenting _it," said McGonagall pointedly, looking at Dumbledore with a raised brow.

"_No,_ Minerva."

"He's figured out where the attack was," Snape said.

McGonagall very nearly fell over in her haste to stand. "He's _what?_"

"His trial was held near the Department of Mysteries," said Snape. "I saw the flash of it in his mind. He's miraculously managed to put two pieces together and knows that we're guarding something there. He correctly suspects there's something in there that the Dark Lord wants, though I, of course, did not confirm his suspicions."

McGonagall put her face into her hands and began pacing. "He's going to tell Weasley and Granger," she moaned. "This is a _disaster_. They're going to hatch some stupid plan and heaven knows what will happen then!"

"They'll have quite a job of getting off grounds," said Dumbledore calmly.

"_They've done it before_," McGonagall said emphatically, tearing her hands away from her face to glare at Dumbledore. "He's _got_ to be told, Albus! You _have_ to tell him before it's too late!"

"Then it is time for us to be grateful for our friend Dolores," said Dumbledore. "She's kept Harry under very close watch."

"Are you _blind_, Albus?" McGonagall began to rage, but she stopped short as she caught sight of a red ring on Snape's wrist. "What's happened to your wrist?"

Snape pulled the sleeve of his robe lower to cover the angry red mark. "Potter managed a Stinging Hex."

"Then there is some hope," said Dumbledore. "He has the capability to defend himself, he's just got to be taught how to do it."

"I'll be meeting with him again on Wednesday," said Snape.

McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose as her head began to pound. "Severus, which will happen first – Harry learning Occlumency or You-Know-Who figuring out how to work this connection to his advantage?"

"I figured you more intelligent than _that_, Minerva," Snape answered.

"Then you agree," said McGonagall. "Harry's got to know _why_ – "

"I agree to nothing of the sort," Snape contradicted. "Potter's got the typical Gryffindor idiocy running in his veins. If he believes he can end this on his own, he'll ruin everything. No, he stays in the dark."

McGonagall ripped her glasses off her face and threw them on to Dumbledore's desk as she leaned forward onto it. "Why can't the three of us ever be on the same page?"

"Minerva, you're turning pale," said Dumbledore. "Please sit back down."

McGonagall fell back into her chair and massaged her temples. "Very well, then. No sense arguing something that you two are clearly determined not to do," she said with a sigh. "We know that he's figured out that there's interest in the Department of Mysteries. The question is, what are _we_ going to do about it?"

"Continue on," said Dumbledore. "There's little else we can do. You'll simply have to keep a closer eye on Harry and his friends than usual. They're clever, but not clever enough to escape you if – "

"Don't finish that statement, Albus," McGonagall requested. "They've escaped my notice before, several times. I will watch them like a hawk, but I can guarantee nothing. Whatever happens, on your conscience be it."

"Now, Severus, you'll have to – What is it?"

Snape, who had been standing quite still, suddenly bent over in pain, clutching his left forearm.

"Heaven's sake, Severus!" McGonagall exclaimed. She popped out of her own chair to help guide Snape into one.

"No," Snape objected, pushing McGonagall away. "Whatever this is, I can't delay. I can't afford to be stopped, either."

"Then I'll clear a path for you. Give me a minute's head start, and use the secret passage by the fifth floor west staircase." McGonagall glanced worriedly at Dumbledore, then left the office, keeping a sharp eye for Umbridge.

As McGonagall was nearing the Entrance Hall, she saw a flurry of pink waddling quickly down a corridor. "Dolores?" she called. However little she wanted to deal with the woman, Umbridge had to be kept away from the front doors long enough for Snape to get out them. "You've got your travelling cloak on. Where on earth are you going at such an hour?"

"I hardly think my travels are any concern of yours, Minerva," said Umbridge tersely without pausing in her pace.

Desperate to buy Snape time, McGonagall carried on. "Come now, at least tell me _why_ you're leaving?"

Umbridge finally stopped. She turned and walked right up to McGonagall, staring up at the transfiguration mistress's face in what was certainly meant to be a menacing fashion.

"Why are you so interested, Minerva?" Umbridge queried suspiciously.

"For the same reasons you'd be interested to find out why _I_ was leaving the grounds at such a time," McGonagall countered, dropping her polite charade.

"I sincerely doubt that," Umbridge said with a snort, and turned to continue on her way.

"I expect we'll have another one of your excessively controlling rules in place tomorrow, then?" McGonagall called to the woman's back.

Umbridge did not respond, only carried on, and was soon out of sight. McGonagall hurried to the closest window and looked carefully out at the grounds. She saw Umbridge exit the front doors, but no sign of Snape.

McGonagall furrowed her brows as she watched Umbridge cross the grounds, and became more and more worried with each passing second. Whatever had happened, McGonagall was positive no good could come of it.

She had been about to head back for Dumbledore's office when a silver phoenix appeared in front of her.

"_Go back to your office and stay there," _said Dumbledore's voice. _"Cornelius is coming. There is nothing to be done tonight. Rest. You will need it."_

McGonagall abandoned her post at the window and retreated to her office to walk laps around her desk. What on earth could have happened that would cause Fudge to dare step foot on Hogwarts grounds?

Fear struck at McGonagall's innermost being. Had Fudge finally hatched some scheme to get rid of Dumbledore? It would certainly account for Umbridge leaving – she would want to arrive with the Minster. And You-Know-Who had his own sources inside the Ministry. If there was confirmation that Dumbledore was being ousted, he would certainly not hesitate to strike as quickly as possible.

McGonagall opened a drawer in her desk and looked down at a sleeping potion Pomfrey had given her uncertainly. Finally, after weighing the consequences of all the actions she could take, McGonagall quickly downed a dose of the sleeping potion before she could change her mind and went to her bed.

* * *

><p>Dumbledore sat at his desk, fingertips connected, watching his door, waiting. Not ten minutes after Snape had left, the Minister sent word that he would be coming to Hogwarts.<p>

The headmaster desperately wished he had some of his staff present, specifically Snape and McGonagall, but to have Snape was impossible and, if anything should happen to Dumbledore himself, McGonagall would almost certainly end up getting herself thrown out with him if she were present, and Hogwarts could not afford such an event.

"Dumbledore," said Fudge, entering without knocking. He was trailed by Umbridge, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Percy Weasley.

Dumbledore spared Kingsley no extra attention, but was pleased to see him. If Kingsley was accompanying Fudge on errands, he was within the Minister's circle of trust and an invaluable asset.

"What can I do for you at this late hour, Cornelius?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly.

"I am here to inform you that security at Hogwarts must be increased drastically."

Rather than responding immediately, Dumbledore watched Percy take detailed notes. Only when the boy stopped to look around and figure out why no one was saying anything did he speak.

"What kind of security are you wishing to install, Cornelius?" Dumbledore asked.

A muscle in Fudge's face twitched. "Dementors, again."

"I believe, Cornelius, that I made it quite clear after the last time dementors were here at Hogwarts that I would not permit them anywhere near the school while I still stood as headmaster."

"Perhaps if you bother to ask _why_ I am making the offer, you will reconsider!" Fudge barked.

Dumbledore studied Fudge's face in silence and considered his options. He, Dumbledore, needed to remain in control of the conversation, and asking the questions Fudge wanted to answer would quickly chip away at that control.

"In all my dealings with dementors, Cornelius, not once have they been more of a help than a hindrance. I assure you, should you try to post dementors anywhere closer to Hogwarts than the boundaries of Hogsmeade, I will make sure they are banished," Dumbledore finally said patiently.

"Then we'll override you!" Umbridge snapped, finally speaking.

"That would be quite impressive," Dumbledore said calmly, "as you would also have to override and overrun the entirety of the staff and a greater portion of the student body. There is no great love for dementors here, and I will not have them.

"Now that the issue of the dementors is settled, what horrid event has taken place that you thought it necessary to attempt to force Azkaban's guards on a school?" Dumbledore asked, leaning back in his chair.

"The issue is _not_ settled, Dumbledore – " Fudge began.

"It is as far as I am concerned, Cornelius, and I will not discuss it further."

"Have it your way, then!" Fudge fumed. "There's been a breakout at Azkaban. Weasley! Give him the list!"

Percy gave a slight start, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment, which he stepped forward to place on Dumbledore's desk.

"Can you not hand me a document yourself, Cornelius?" Dumbledore asked evenly, picking up the parchment. He blocked out Fudge's mutterings as he scanned the list of names. By the time he reached the last, he felt fire in his eyes. "How did this happen?" he asked coldly.

Fudge merely looked back at Kingsley, passing on the duty.

"We have been unable to determine exactly how the inmates escaped, Professor Dumbledore," Kingsley answered. "Investigations are ongoing."

Dumbledore set down the list he had been given and leaned forward once more. "If you remember, Cornelius, I warned you that such a thing might happen," he said, allowing anger to creep in to his voice. "Your options for explanation are limited. Either the Ministry has lost control of the dementors and they have gone rogue, or the Ministry has lost control of the dementors to Voldemort."

Fudge jumped horribly at Voldemort's name, but Umbridge only smiled at Dumbledore's suggestions.

"The Ministry is in complete control of the dementors, Professor Dumbledore, and it is insulting that you should say otherwise," Umbridge said in a dangerously sweet voice.

"Then I suppose I am being quite insulting," said Dumbledore, rising from his seat to tower over the Ministry workers. "The dementors could not be controlled two years ago when they were here to attempt to recapture Sirius Black, and they nearly destroyed three students. The dementor you brought with you last year could not be controlled, Cornelius, and it destroyed Barty Crouch Jr., a wealth of information that could have saved our world a great deal of pain. The dementors could not be controlled when they attacked Harry and his cousin over the holidays, and we are lucky that the boys escaped. Lastly, the dementors could not be controlled tonight, and they allowed _ten_ immeasurably dangerous criminals to escape Azkaban. Surely you cannot deny the mound of evidence before you!"

"Two years ago the dementors were attempting to get Black, who is very likely the root of this latest break, and whom three of your students were aiding," Fudge countered, his face turning red. "Had the dementor not acted with Crouch, I would have sent him off for a Dementor's Kiss, anyway. There is no _proof_ that dementors attacked Potter over the summer, and the Ministry _has not lost control of them!_"

Dumbledore felt rage and pity pulse through his body. "Thank you for informing me of this development, Cornelius," he said with steely evenness. "I assure you that Hogwarts will be plenty well protected without the dementors. Let them stay at Azkaban and guard whatever prisoners you might have left."

The headmaster took his seat again and began reading one of several documents spread across his desk.

"Very well," said Fudge tightly. "If that's the way you wish to play, then so be it. The Ministry will offer Hogwarts no protection, whatsoever. Enjoy explaining the lack of security to the parents of the students."

Dumbledore raised his eyes to Fudge once more, feeling his blood boil. "'_Play'?_" he asked dangerously. "You think this some sort of game, Cornelius, that we are _playing_? Dumbledore felt so enraged by Fudge's choice of word that he could think of nothing more to say on the subject.

Fudge, in a rare stroke of brilliance, said nothing in reply.

"You'd best get back to your office, Minister," said Dumbledore coldly. "You've quite an issue to manage. I wish you the best of luck in explaining this blunder to our community." He returned to the document he had been reading and, a few moments later, heard Fudge leave with his entourage.

Once certain Fudge would not return to the office in an attempt to have the last word, Dumbledore strode to his fireplace and attempted to floo-call McGonagall, but she did not respond.

Unwilling to waste time on a second attempt, Dumbledore grabbed a book from one of his tallest shelves – in fact, it was so tall, even he had to stand on his tip-toes to reach it – and opened the book with a cloud of dust. He quickly flipped through the articles he had clipped from _The Prophet_ years ago and pulled out ten articles announcing the arrests of Antonin Dolohov, Augustus Rookwood, Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Lestrange, and six others, all with pictures to match.

Stuffing the pictures into his pocket, Dumbledore strode from his office and was soon outside Flitwick's. He knocked almost relentlessly until the short man answered.

"Albus," Flitwick greeted with a yawn. "It's _very _early, are you aware?"

"There's been a mass breakout from Azkaban, Filius, and I require your skill," said Dumbledore simply.

Flitwick's eyes snapped open. "Mass breakout?" he said faintly, leaving his door open and going back into his room to grab his shoes, cloak, and wand. "How many?"

"Ten," said Dumbledore, and he proceeded to list the names.

"Bellatrix and Dolohov?" said Flitwick dismally as he and Dumbledore left his office. "We'll have to keep a special eye on Neville and the Weasleys. The Weasleys won't be happy to find out that the killer of their uncles is loose, and that can only end poorly. Normally I wouldn't be so concerned about Neville, but he's been rather plucky these past few months."

"I am equally concerned for the welfare of all the students, Filius, which is why – "

"How do you even know about the breakout?" Flitwick interrupted. "Did you have someone watching Azkaban?"

"No. Cornelius came by to try to install dementors at Hogwarts again," said Dumbledore coldly.

Flitwick hissed uncharacteristically. "It's the dementors that let the breakout happen in the first place!"

"Only by proxy," Dumbledore conceded. "I tried to warn Cornelius about them. I truly did."

"Well Fudge is an idiot, we all know that."

Dumbledore looked down at Flitwick somewhat amusedly.

"What?" Flitwick said defensively. "I may not rage like Minerva and Pomona, but I'm not happy with the man either!"

Dumbledore chuckled, happy to have a reason to smile amidst all the danger.

"So what is it you need me for, then?" Flitwick asked as the pair neared the main doors to the castle.

"You cast a charm on the front doors a few years ago so they would recognize Sirius Black and not allow him to pass," said Dumbledore, removing the pictures from his pocket. "I need you to do the same for these escapees."

"It'll take me the rest of the night," said Flitwick, "but for the safety of Hogwarts, I'd do just about anything." He took the pictures with a smile and set to work.

Dumbledore next tried knocking on McGonagall's door, but again she did not answer. He let himself in to her office and, on a hunch, checked her drawers for the sleeping potion he had asked Pomfrey to give to the deputy. He estimated one dose to be missing, and so he settled himself in to McGonagall's desk to begin notifying members of the Order and sending them where he saw fit, and to await his deputy's awakening to discuss the newest threat Hogwarts faced.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Fudge, go home! No one likes you.

Ladies and gentlemen, homework really sucks, let's not lie, but take a second with me and be grateful for the fact that, if you have homework, it means you're getting an education. Yay education!

Leave a review, then go do your homework, if you have any, and enjoy your marvelous day!


	90. Chapter 90

_**Ninety – The Beetle at Bay; Seen and Unforseen**_

"You mean to tell me that _ten_ high-security prisoners escaped from Azkaban and Cornelius is doing nothing but protecting his own a – "

"Minerva, calm yourself," Dumbledore counseled, seated at her desk and writing on a large scroll of parchment.

"I'll do no such thing!" McGonagall raged. "The sheer idiocy! He ought to remove the dementors and have every single Auror out looking for the prisoners! What's he doing instead, taking questions from reporters in his office?"

"He's doing that exactly," said Dumbledore, grabbing a copy of the _Prophet_ from his right without looking and handing it off. "To be fair, addressing the public is part of his job description. Also, I hope you won't mind that I took the liberty of reading your copy of the paper before you."

"You're sitting at my desk and going through my drawers," said McGonagall dully. "It seems only logical that you'd steal my newspaper, also." She sat down in the chair across her own desk and began reading.

She had only gotten through a few paragraphs before she threw the paper down on the floor. "Sirius? That's his plan? Blame Sirius?"

"That's the only option, if Cornelius is to stick with everything he's said in the past," Dumbledore reasoned. "He can't very well say that the Ministry's lost control of the dementors – "

"Which they clearly have!"

"And he can't maintain his pride if he declares Sirius innocent and admits that all the resources he's spent tracking him have been a waste," Dumbledore continued as if uninterrupted. "He _certainly_ can't say that Voldemort – Honestly, Minerva! – is rising again, as he'd lose the job he's done everything possible to keep."

McGonagall sighed heavily and straightened her glasses. "Well what are we doing about it?"

"Kingsley has worked his way in to Fudge's confidence, so he'll be able to tell us whatever Cornelius may accomplish – "

"Fudge won't accomplish a da – "

"And I've sent several other members to observe known Death Eaters and the previous residence's of the escapees in attempts to find where they may be hiding," Dumbledore finished.

"Has Severus checked in with you yet?" McGonagall asked sharply.

"No," Dumbledore answered.

"Doesn't that concern you?"

"No. I'm quite sure Severus was very tired upon his return, if he has returned at all, and I would not blame him if he went straight to bed.

"If you'd be so kind as to prepare yourself for the day, Minerva, I don't think it'd be a good idea to be late to breakfast," Dumbledore suggested.

McGonagall looked at a clock on her wall, then down at her tartan dressing gown. "This conversation is not over," she declared as she retreated back to her private quarters.

"I would assume not," said Dumbledore, gathering his papers and clearing the rest of the mess he had made. "Also, Broderick Bode is dead. Page ten," he added casually just before leaving.

"_What?_" McGonagall snapped, hurrying to the paper she had thrown previously.

"You can read the article and discuss it at breakfast, Minerva. If you're not late, that is," Dumbledore said, closing the door behind himself.

McGonagall looked between the paper on the floor and her clock several times before rushing to her room to change robes, brush her teeth, spin her hair into a bun, and jam her feet into her boots. On her way out of her office, she snatched up _The Prophet_ and read the article on Bode's death as she walked down to the Great Hall.

"What an incompetent lot the staff of St. Mungo's is," McGonagall hissed upon sitting next to Dumbledore. "Bode had Devil's Snare next to his bed for nearly a month and _no one_ noticed? If I were given the option of choosing untreated dragon pox or being admitted to St. Mungo's, I think I'd take the dragon pox!"

"After breakfast I'll be visiting Poppy to see if she can have any of her old friends look in to the issue," Dumbledore said, giving his full attention to McGonagall for the first time all morning. "I've been in contact with Healer Strout almost since Broderick was admitted. She very willingly kept me updated on his condition. As a matter of fact, she estimated that I might have been able to speak with him next week."

"Miriam Strout had best start looking for a new job or move to another country, because I don't think she'll be put back on staff after this," McGonagall snorted.

"After I speak with Poppy, I'll be trying to check in with Order members," said Dumbledore lowly, "and likely for the rest of the day. Would you please find time to talk to Pomona and find out if there's some way someone might have disguised the Devil's Snare, or made it go into some sort of hibernation?"

"Yes, I'll look into the matter. She'll want to know why, though," said McGonagall.

"Say what you always do in this sort of situation," said Dumbledore with a shrug. "Broderick was a good friend of mine and I simply want to find the truth of his death."

"Merlin's beard, I wish you would have been able to talk to him," McGonagall sighed. "He must have known something important for them to off him like that."

"You have Slytherin fifth years today, do you not?"

"Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle?" McGonagall asked.

"And Nott," Dumbledore added. "They just might let something slip."

"I hate spying on students," McGonagall said, looking out across the vast sea of her charges. "This shouldn't be their fight!"

"I agree with you most heartily," said Dumbledore. "Unfortunately, life's not fair."

"What are you plans to bolster our defense?" McGonagall asked. "I agree with your decision to decline the dementors, but we can't do nothing."

"Filius spent a good deal of the night setting some spells to the castle doors," said Dumbledore. "Once we've discovered where the escapees are hiding, I'll see about having Order members on the gates during the night."

"What about the secret passages?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "They're as important, if not more, to us than to the Death Eaters. They might use them as a means of entrance, but we might _need_ them as a means of evacuation."

"We should at least set some sort of alarming charms on them," McGonagall argued.

"That can be arranged."

McGonagall looked past Dumbledore to the shock of pink at the end of the table. "What about Dolores?"

"Dolores, as ever, stands with the Ministry," Dumbledore answered. "I'm sure she was not pleased with the way I spoke to Cornelius, so I anticipate retaliation in some way, shape, or form soon. She'll not want any talk of the Death Eaters rising again, either."

"I'm sure she'll find some ingenious way to shut everyone up on the matter," McGonagall said gruffly.

"Have you thought about what she might do?" Dumbledore asked. "Once she manages to get rid of me, that is?"

"I've enough on my plate without imagining dealing with your absence, Albus, thank you," McGonagall said drily.

"You'll have even more on your plate once she succeeds in her endeavor," Dumbledore countered. "She will not relinquish control of the school to you, of all people."

McGonagall glared at Dumbledore. "I appreciate your confidence."

"I have plenty of confidence in you, Minerva, but I also have confidence that Dolores does _not_ have confidence in you."

"Must you use the same word so many times in one sentence?" McGonagall asked as she tried to unscramble Dumbledore's words.

"Yes, it's my duty to annoy you and make you think," said Dumbledore. "Now, please promise me that you'll start planning ways to maintain order once I've been sacked?"

McGonagall glared daggers at the pink puff at the end of the table, willing it to burst in to flames. "Maintain order? I think not. Complete and total anarchy is Dolores's worst nightmare. Therefore, it must become a reality to force her to lose her mind and _leave_."

"Minerva…"

"There is only one of her, Albus. Who will her allies be? Argus? A couple of students seeking her favor? She can't possibly keep hundreds of students in line with such a small band. No. She will flounder hopelessly, and she will fail. _Then_ I will step up and bring about order, and not before."

"Minerva," said Dumbledore more insistently.

"Albus, the only people that don't listen to me are you, the Weasleys, Potter, and Granger. Luckily for me, all of us are on the same team. You know me better than to think that I will comply with whatever she might attempt if she succeeds in getting you out of the way."

"_When_," Dumbledore corrected. "_When_ she succeeds in getting me out of the way."

McGonagall looked down at her Gryffindors. "Surprise, surprise," she said dully. "Hermione found the article in the paper. It only takes one student knowing. Rumors will be flying around uncontrollably by lunch."

"Better they know and exaggerate than be ignorant," said Dumbledore.

"I suppose you're right." McGonagall scanned the table until her eyes landed on Neville, whose face had gone red and his knuckles white as he stared at his empty plate. "Oh, poor Longbottom! He's been doing so much better this year than he has previously! To know that Bellatrix is out…"

"Neville has more than enough of his parents in him to pull through," said Dumbledore confidently.

"Try telling that to Augusta. I just hope he doesn't regress or do anything stupid. He – What's Hagrid doing?"

Dumbledore looked out over the students, took in the sight of Hagrid wondering miserably about the entrance hall, and turned back to his deputy. "Ah, I knew I'd forgotten to tell you something…"

McGonagall felt her nostrils flare. "Really?" she asked dangerously. "Death Eaters break out of Azkaban, Bode murdered, Umbridge's continued presence, and now Hagrid?"

"Yes, about an hour and a half after my discussion with Cornelius, Fawkes brought me a message Dolores had dropped off at my office. Hagrid is officially on probation."

"I eagerly await anarchy's reign in this school."

* * *

><p>"What's she on about, forbidding us to talk to the students about anything except coursework?" Sprout raged at a whisper in the hallway the day after Azkaban's breakout. "You mark my words, the students are going to use that to their advantage!"<p>

"They already have," said McGonagall. "Lee Jordan's gone and gotten himself detention for telling Dolores that Exploding Snap isn't related to Defense, so she couldn't technically tell him to stop playing it in class."

"So Jordan's got a death wish, then, has he?"

"Come now, Pomona," interjected Flitwick. "You know very well why she's installed this latest decree!"

"To keep us from confirming that the Ministry's lost command of the dementors, obviously."

"_And_ to try to keep the panic level within Hogwarts low," McGonagall added. "If the students are ignorant of what's going on, they'll be easier for her to control. Everyone else is starting to see sense and is challenging the Ministry. Heaven forbid the students get a whiff of rebellious attitude!"

"We're _going_ to get asked questions," Sprout insisted. "The students are nervous, and they have every right to be! What on earth are we supposed to tell them?"

"Tell them to go to Dolores," said Flitwick.

"Really now, Filius," McGonagall chastised. "A Ravenclaw ought to be smarter than that."

"Yes, well, I possess a high capability to think before I act, rather than simply act rashly, hence my _not_ being Gryffindor, like yourself."

"You very nearly _were_ a Gryffindor, let's not forget," McGonagall teased, "and I very nearly a Ravenclaw."

"As the Muggles say, 'Close only counts in horse shoes and hand grenades'," Flitwick retorted.

"Can we get back to our latest crisis, please?" Sprout queried.

"As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," Flitwick continued, "Dolores has to be made to understand the problem she has created."

"Even if the students _were_ to bring Dolores their questions, she wouldn't see the sense of it," McGonagall argued. "She'd only tell them it was none of their concern."

"Speaking of students," said Sprout as a bell rang. "Here they come."

As students began pouring into the corridors, the three teachers bid each other farewell and returned to their classrooms.

* * *

><p><strong>++Weeks Later++<strong>

"Hogsmeade opted out of Ministry security as well, I see?" said Sprout as she, McGonagall, and Flitwick sat at a table in _The Three Broomsticks_, Madam Rosemerta standing with them.

"Of course we did," said Rosemerta. "Several of us owners got together after the article came out and we all agreed that dementors are terrible for business. Besides, most of us think the Ministry's daft anyway."

"Is that so?" McGonagall asked interestedly.

"When you compare the work that Fudge has done to the work Dumbledore's done, there's really only one intelligent decision to make as far as who to trust," said Rosemerta. "Then again, there are the select few thick-headed shop owners that can't seem to think for themselves…."

"Oh?" said Sprout. "Pray tell, who are those select few?"

"I'll not be telling you, Pomona," said Rosemerta. "We've sorted our issues out ourselves and we don't need you raising any new ones, thank you very much!"

"What about the people that only _live _here?" asked Flitwick. "Surely parents wouldn't mind the extra security the Ministry might be able to provide?"

"Yeah, they were a problem for a bit," Rosemerta admitted, "but then the Franks reminded everyone of the nightmares all the kids started having with the dementors wandering about and how the blasted things didn't do any good in trying to catch Black, or keeping prisoners _in _Azkaban at all."

"If only the rest of the population were so sensible," McGonagall sighed.

"How's things with Dolores up in the castle?" Rosemerta asked lowly. "I've heard some of the kids grumbling."

"Oh, don't bring that toad up, Rosemerta," Sprout objected. "We just might vomit. That or Minerva will curse you."

"That bad?"

"Worse."

"We've only got a few more months with her," Flitwick said. "We haven't kept a Defense teacher more than one year for decades! I sincerely doubt that'll change now."

"With the way our luck is going, it just might," McGonagall said dully.

"Where's Severus?" Rosemerta asked. "I haven't seen him in months."

"Severus has been incredibly busy," McGonagall answered, eager to close the subject. "He's stayed behind in his office to catch up on either rest or grading, I believe."

"Enough about Severus and his Hogsmeade plans, or lack thereof," said Sprout.

McGonagall looked sideways at Sprout, as she had a nasty feeling she did not want to take part in the following discussion. "Pomona…."

"What's Potter doing with Chang? I saw them wandering about together."

"Oh, for _heaven's sake, _Pomona!" McGonagall moaned.

"What am I missing?" Rosemerta asked Flitwick.

"Pomona thinks that Harry ought to be going out with Ginny Weasley. She's been saying so since Ginny came to Hogwarts," Flitwick answered.

"Doesn't it make sense, Rosemerta?" Sprout asked eagerly. "Potters always go for redheads, and Harry's already practically a part of the Weasley family!"

"I think you might be imagining a bit too much, Pomona," said Rosemerta.

"_Thank you_," McGonagall said gratefully.

"I've seen Ginny in here several times with various boys, and, trust me, she's not thinking about Harry at all when she's with them," Rosemerta continued.

McGonagall closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Pomona, have I not been telling you for years that these sorts of things are absolutely no concern of ours?"

"Well pardon me for being interested," said Sprout insincerely. "Rarely do we get the opportunity to pry into each other's romantic lives, so I've got to look elsewhere. Although, there were, of course, those few years when you – "

"_Shut it_," said McGonagall emphatically.

"Look at that! Are you _blushing_, Minerva McGonagall?" Sprout asked, poking her colleague.

"You've got your own record I could very easily bring up, Pomona," McGonagall growled, "and it's not as pretty as mine. Do not push me."

"How did we not notice Hagrid before?" Flitwick said quickly after looking around for a distraction.

McGonagall craned her neck until she also saw Hagrid, sitting in a corner by himself.

"I'd leave Hagrid alone today if I were you," Rosemerta cautioned. "I told staff not to give him anymore refills, but he's still out of sorts. Not dangerously, mind you, but he's not like himself. What're those cuts and bruises from?"

"If you ask him, from work," McGonagall said dully. "He came back bruised and bloodied, and he's been that way since."

"Poor Hagrid," Rosemerta cooed. "He's such a nice bloke, if you give him the chance."

"Er, Minerva, don't look now, but Rita Skeeter's reemerged," said Sprout uneasily.

"Who's done what?" McGonagall snapped, quickly scanning the bar. She spotted Rita Skeeter, though she was not alone. She sat with, of all people, Luna Lovegood and an unmistakable bundle of bushy brown hair that could only mean Hermione. "This can't possibly end well…"

"Hold on just a moment," Flitwick argued. "Let's think through this _rationally_."

"No, thank you, Filius," said McGonagall. "I'm going to be very _ir_rational, and I'm going to make that miserable cow leave."

"Oh no, you're not," Rosemerta countered, her eyebrows pulling together. "I won't have an article from her bashing my bar!"

"Oh, look," said Sprout mildly. "More kindling for the fire."

McGonagall saw Harry enter the bar, walk back toward Hagrid, and speak for a moment. Hagrid drained the rest of his drink, then left, and Harry was summoned by Hermione.

"This is certainly odd," said Flitwick.

McGonagall quite agreed. When Rita made to grab her signature green quill from her bag, she put it away at a word from Hermione. As the professor ran various scenarios through her head that could explain Harry, Hermione, Luna, and Rita Skeeter sharing a table, with Hermione having control, she became more and more confused.

After a few moments of Sprout and Rosemerta bouncing ideas off each other, however, McGonagall very nearly choked on her drink, and then quickly covered up her smile with her hand.

"Minerva?" Sprout said slowly.

"Oh, will I laugh if my theory is correct," said McGonagall before rising from her seat and exiting quickly.

Sprout quickly followed suite, though her legs were much shorter than McGonagall's and she had quite the time catching up. "Minerva McGonagall," she wheezed, "tell me what's going through that strange mind of yours."

"Go on back and enjoy a free day with Filius and Rosemerta, Pomona," said McGonagall. "And keep an eye out on _The Quibbler _in the coming weeks._"_

"_The Quibbler_?" Sprout burst. "_You_, telling me to – "

"Really, Pomona, I'm in bit of a rush and, quite frankly, you can't keep up," said McGonagall, picking up pace further.

Sprout did, indeed, fall back to the point where she stopped, glared at McGonagall's back, and returned to _The Three Broomsticks._

* * *

><p><span>Dumbledore<span>

_McGonagall_

Sprout

_Flitwick_

_**Snape**_

**Umbridge**

* * *

><p><em><strong>That Cup, Minerva? I believe it's mine.<strong>_

_Shut it, Severus._

_**Really and truly, had Miss Weasley not caught the snitch, Gryffindor would have lost by 310 points…**_

_Shut UP, Severus!_

_**Kirke and Sloper, by the way, phenomenal Beaters.**_

_I'm warning you, Severus…_

_**Best Keeper I've ever seen.**_

_That's it! You're getting hexed when I see you next!_

_**Such a humiliating loss I don't think Gryffindor's ever seen… except, perhaps, the game when you fell off your broom and – **_

_Slytherin fouled, as they always do! You weren't even there! A scheming, slimy, serpent of a Beater, after the whistle was blown, mind you, - _

Minerva, let it go. He's baiting you.

_**Ah, Pomona! Congratulations! A wonderful win by Hufflepuff.**_

Yes, yes, congratulations to Hufflepuff. Now go shove your head in a cauldron, Snape.

_**I think I've earned the right to gloat. After all, Minerva's done it for years now.**_

We're enacting the rule of double standard. She can poke fun at you, but you can't poke fun at her. Now be gone!

_**I simply can't win.**_

_Your team played well, Pomona._

They played their average. Honestly, it wasn't very fun to watch…

_Pomona, thank you for trying, but I need to simply sit in silence._

_**Don't forget to contemplate your life choices that lead you to this low point.**_

Severus, you awful human being!

_Alright, why don't we all just close our books and keep to our own offices? I think that sounds like a brilliant idea. _

_**I think – **_

No one cares what you think. Shut up and go to sleep.

_**It's four in the afternoon.**_

I know that smiling is a foreign thing to you, Severus, and you've been doing it for a good portion of the day, so you must be exhausted. I think four in the afternoon is a great time to go to sleep after so much hard work.

_**Hilarious, Pomona, truly.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

That awkward moment when you don't update for two months... My bad. Classes, homework, multiple computer crashes, slight mental breakdowns - the list of excuses goes on and, quite frankly, I'm sure you're not really interested. :P

Broderick Bode, for those of you that may not remember, was an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries that tried to take a prophecy under the influence of the Imperius Curse.

I so greatly enjoy reading your reviews! Wanna leave one? Sure you do! =D


	91. Chapter 91

_**Ninety-One – Seen and Unforseen; The Centaur and the Sneak**_

"Albus!" McGonagall called, bursting into Dumbledore's office early on a Monday morning. "Albus, have you _seen?"_

Dumbledore looked at his beaming deputy over his copy of _The Quibbler_, the cover of which displayed Harry's face. "Indeed I have," he responded.

"The article's got _every single detail_, and done correctly! Even if it is in _The Quibbler_, the fact that Skeeter wrote it ought to fetch some interest and credibility! Idiots always believe what she writes, and it's the idiots that need to be won!" McGonagall said gleefully.

"I'm glad you're amused, Minerva," said Dumbledore with a chuckle.

"I saw Skeeter at _The Three Broomsticks_ with Harry, Hermione, and Luna, and I figured something like this would happen, but with Skeeter, involved, I thought it would end up being well, _Skeeter-ish_, but this is wonderful!"

"So Miss Granger's got control of Rita, then?" Dumbledore queried.

"Apparently so!"

"You know that can only mean blackmail," Dumbledore said while looking over his glasses.

"I don't even care," McGonagall admitted, falling into a chair. "I'm happy with this article and nothing's going to change it."

"Pleased as you may be, Dolores will be anything but," said Dumbledore.

"She's reactive, not proactive," McGonagall argued. "By the time she sticks her nose in, more than half the school will have read the article. And she _only_ has control of the school. She can't stop the general public. Since the Azkaban breakout, people have been looking for a sensible explanation, and here it is!"

"I must encourage you to be realistic, Minerva, - "

"This article will only convince a small number of people, if any at all, I know," said McGonagall, deflating slightly. "Can't you just let me have these few minutes, Albus?"

"Very well," Dumbledore conceded. "Get it all out of your system. By then it will be time to head down to breakfast and you'll be able to act like your normal self."

McGonagall spoke, unimpeded, for a full ten minutes before she took a deep breath and sat up in her chair. "Alright," she said in her usual voice. "Go ahead and tell me about the pitfalls you see with this."

"I'm sure you'll discover them on your own," said Dumbledore, rising from his desk. "Truthfully, I'm quite pleased with the article myself," he admitted. "We simply need to keep ourselves in line, and not let our hopes get too far ahead of us.

"Now, if you have no objections," Dumbledore continued as he made his way to his door, "we ought to get to breakfast."

* * *

><p>"What are you so cheery about?" Sprout asked with a yawn as McGonagall sat beside her.<p>

"Have a read," said McGonagall, passing Sprout the copy of _The Quibbler_ she had ordered specifically to see if her suspicions were correct.

Sprout's eyes popped. "You told me to keep an eye on – "

"Yes I did," said McGonagall proudly. "Go on, read. I'll still be here when you're done." She set herself to buttering toast as Sprout ripped open the magazine.

While Sprout continued to read, McGonagall watched in quiet pleasure as countless owls descended upon the Gryffindor table while Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Ginny, and Luna all tore open envelopes. The article, it seemed, was doing quite well for having been released the day previously.

"Oh, this is wonderful," Sprout sighed, "even if it is from _The Quibbler_ and written by Rita Skeeter. Look at this, Minerva, how respectful it is of Cedric."

"Oh look," said McGonagall mildly. "Dolores has caught on."

Sprout looked out over the sea of students.

Umbridge had left the staff table to discover what the source was of the disturbance at the Gryffindor table.

"Think she'll ban _The Quibbler?"_ Sprout asked.

"I'm certain of it," said McGonagall, trying not to smile. "Do you know what _that_ means?"

"Of course I do," said Sprout with a grin. "Nothing could better assure that every student will read the article than banning it."

Sprout suddenly gasped excitedly. "I've got Potter in class today! I'll be able to tell him how grateful - "

"Be careful, Pomona, as we're forb – "

"Forbidden from discussing anything with the students other than the subject we are paid to teach," Sprout droned. "Yes, I know. Luckily, there are many other ways to communicate besides speech. If I'm not mistaken, Gryffindor just lost a substantial amount of House Points," she said in mock thoughtfulness. "I have a sneaking suspicion Gryffindor will be back to normal after a few Herbology classes."

McGonagall looked past the doors of the Great Hall to see rubies floating up from their resting place within Gryffindor's glass at an alarming rate. Even so, she could not find it in herself to be angry, for she was certain that all of her coworkers, not just Sprout, would quickly rectify such an injustice.

Even before lunch, Umbridge had set another Educational Decree into place banning _The Quibbler_. Large copies of the Decree, in fact, were plastered all over the walls of Hogwarts.

At break, Umbridge summoned the staff for a meeting.

"She's got authority to summon us for meetings now?" McGonagall asked Dumbledore lowly, the pair of them seated on a couch in the staffroom.

"No, but I allowed her to think that she does," said Dumbledore. "Whatever she may believe, I know where this staff's loyalties lie and am quite certain she will not turn any of you against the truth. Let her call all the meetings she wishes," he finished unconcernedly.

"This is going to be good," McGonagall said vindictively, settling further into her seat as Umbridge rose before the gathered staff.

"I've gathered you all here to discuss a very important issue," Umbridge began. "The students of Hogwarts have once again, it seems, fallen under the spell of some very horrible lies."

Umbridge paused, apparently expecting someone to ask a question or begin ranting. When no one did anything, she continued on, "_The Quibbler_ has published an interview with Mr. Potter trying to undermine everything the Ministry has told the public since June."

"Is _that_ why _The Quibbler_'s been banned?" asked Hooch mockingly.

Umbridge seemed to have failed to grasp Hooch's exaggerated tones. "It is indeed," she answered.

"I've heard the article was written by Rita Skeeter," said Pomfrey, at a rather loud whisper, to Professor Sinistra beside her. "Skeeter used to write for _The Prophet_! What's she doing with _The Quibbler_? She was once so loyal…"

Umbridge's face reddened, but she ignored Pomfrey's comment. "I have already begun checking students for copies of this slanderous magazine, however, I can't possibly keep up with _all_ of them – "

"Oh, Dolores, we can't help you look for copies of Mr. Potter's article," said Flitwick in his usual kind voice, though he had a surprisingly malicious look in his eyes. "_The Quibbler_ isn't at all related to any of the subjects we are paid to teach, so according to Educational Decree Number Twenty-Six, we aren't allowed to ask students if they have copies."

"Yes, well," Umbridge flustered, "I'll make an exception – "

"Oh, no, Dolores," interjected Professor Burbage. "We insist on strictly adhering to the rules you have graciously given us."

"The school's never run better," said Professor Vector from Dumbledore's left. "No offense, Albus, truly, but we just haven't had any issues at all this year! Dolores has dealt with everything that's come up. It's been quite refreshing."

McGonagall's lips twitched violently with the effort of not smiling as Umbridge's face turned the shade of a tomato and Vector winked while the toad began digging through her bag.

"I'm glad you've been enjoying the term, Septima," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling.

"Honestly, Dolores, the students respect you so much, I'm quite sure they've burned any and all copies of _The Quibbler _that have ever existed within the walls of Hogwarts," Sprout said confidently.

"I trust," said Umbridge, still using her simpering voice through clenched teeth, "that the staff of Hogwarts is not hiding copies of _the Quibbler_, either?" She pulled out her quill and made a few notes on her clipboard.

"Heaven's no, Dolores," said McGonagall, unable to resist joining in the fun.

"The Ministry's been so good to us," said Burbage. "Why would we repay them by reading and spreading such tales?"

"Us, partake in something shaming the Ministry?" said Pomfrey. As she spoke, she used a copy of the morning's _Prophet _to mop up the tea Madam Hooch had shot out her nose while Burbage was speaking, though a stack of napkins was well within reach. "What a ridiculous suggestion."

"This article is an outrage," said Flitwick. "As if anyone could think the Ministry has lost control of the dementors!"

"Or that Cedric was killed by You-Know-Who," said Sprout, glaring hatefully at Umbridge. "People die all the time using portkeys; they're so _very_ dangerous. Of _course_ his death was an accident."

As Umbridge looked up, Sprout quickly rearranged her features to display a wonderfully faux smile.

"Thank you for your displays of loyalty," said Umbridge, stuffing her clipboard back into her bag and storming out.

"Back to work, everyone," said Dumbledore pleasantly after a few moments of silence. "The students won't teach themselves."

* * *

><p>"Minerva!" Dumbledore called, bursting into his deputy's office.<p>

"Merlin's Beard, Albus!" McGonagall said, gathering herself from jumping in shock. "What's – "

"Kingsley just informed me that Cornelius signed an Order of Dismissal for Sibyll. Dolores is sacking her tonight, within the hour, very likely."

McGonagall rose from her desk, furious. "We'll see about – "

"You remember we discussed a possible replacement?"

"I thought you were joking!" McGonagall burst.

"You ought to know better," said Dumbledore, smiling slightly. "I'm off to retrieve Firenze before Dolores installs a new teacher, herself. _You must make sure Sibyll does not leave," _Dumbledore finished very clearly.

"I will," said McGonagall confidently.

"Wonderful," said Dumbledore pleasantly. "Now, if you please, it's about time for dinner, so you'd best head down to the Great Hall."

"You come here to give me this information and then tell me to go down to dinner like nothing's wrong?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore simply. "I should be back before long." And he left.

McGonagall stomped her foot once, then blew out the candle on her desk and went to dinner.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Sprout asked as she seated herself and ladled food onto her plate. "He's hardly ever late."

"He's hiking," said McGonagall dully.

Sprout looked down the long staff table suspiciously. "Dolores isn't here either…"

"No she is not," said McGonagall, stabbing a baked potato with a steak knife and tearing it open.

"That should be a relief, but it's only stressing me more."

"Eat your vegetables."

"What's going on?"

"_Eat_, Pomona!"

"Minerva Iso – "

Sprout stopped short as a shrill scream suddenly filled the hall. Silence fell, and everyone turned toward the entrance hall to see poor Professor Trelawney stranded in the center, wand in one hand and bottle in the other.

"No," Sprout gasped.

"Oh, yes," said McGonagall, rising. She pushed her way to the front of the crowd gathering in the entrance hall just as Trelawney's trunks flew down the stairs.

Trelawney screamed as each trunk hit the ground, looking more and more mad with each passing second. Much as McGonagall disliked Trelawney, she felt disgusted with the amount of humiliation Umbridge was putting the poor woman through.

Umbridge, herself, stood at the top of the staircase, froggy smile in place as she looked down upon the scene she was causing.

"**No!" [Trelawney] shrieked. "NO! This cannot be happening….It cannot…I refuse to accept it!"**

McGonagall felt the students shift around her as they all tried to get a good view of the scene unraveling.

"**You didn't realize this was coming?" **said Umbridge, sounding quite pleased with herself from her high ground. **"Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable you would be sacked?"**

"**You c-can't," howled Professor Trelawney, tears streaming down her face from behind her enormous lenses, "you c-can't sack me! I've b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!"**

"**It **_**was**_** your home," said Professor Umbridge. **

As Trelawney sank onto one of her trunks, McGonagall felt as though she, herself, had been punched in the stomach. Hogwarts was her home as much as Trelawney's, and if Umbridge stayed, she would one day share the Divination professor's fate of being evicted.

Umbridge continued mercilessly as Trelawney rocked back and forth, "**Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You are embarrassing us."**

McGonagall had hoped to hold herself back longer to buy Dumbledore more time to return, but she could resist no more. Validity of field and personal disagreements aside, McGonagall refused to let her colleague be disrespected in such a horrible manner.

She broke from the crowd, strode right to Trelawney, and began patting the woman on the back with one hand and pulling a handkerchief out with the other. **"There, there, Sibyll…Calm down…. Blow your nose on this. …It's not as bad as you think, now…. You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts…."**

"**Oh really, Professor McGonagall?"** said Umbridge dangerously, descending a few steps and wiping the hopeful look that had been budding from Trelawney's face. **"And your authority for that statement is…?"**

McGonagall had been about to open her mouth to say something she would likely regret in the long run, but was saved from herself as the front doors opened.

"**That would be mine,"**said Dumbledore.

McGonagall sat beside Trelawney and leaned close. "You're not going anywhere," she whispered. "Just you watch."

Trelawney's entire body convulsed with another sob. She closed her eyes momentarily in acknowledgement of McGonagall's statement, and from that point on, her gaze was glued to Dumbledore.

"**Yours, Professor Dumbledore?" said Umbridge with a singularly unpleasant little laugh. "I'm afraid you do not understand the position. I have here" – she pulled a parchment scroll from within her robes – "an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation, and sack any teacher she – that is to say, I - feel is not performing up to the standard required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her."**

McGonagall rested her hand on Trelawney's back as the woman continued to weep, but she felt a great deal of pleasure as Umbridge's smile faltered while Dumbledore's remained in place.

"**You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge**," Dumbledore conceded.** "As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid," he went on, with a courteous little bow, "that the power to do that still resides with the headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts."**

Trelawney let loose a mad laugh, along with a hiccup. **"No – no, I'll g-go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall l-leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere – "**

"**No," said Dumbledore sharply. "It is my wish that you remain, Sibyll."**

McGonagall readied herself for command as Dumbledore turned to look at her.

"**Might I ask you to escort Sibyll back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?"**

"**Of course," said McGonagall**_**,**_ feeling rather joyous as Umbridge's plan of displaying her power shattered to a million pieces. **"Up you get, Sibyll…."**

As McGonagall helped Trelawney up, Sprout rushed forward and grabbed Trelawney's other side. As they made their way past Umbridge, McGonagall purposely kept her attention on Trelawney's feet to keep herself from laughing.

"_**Locomotor trunks!" **_Flitwick called from below, and McGonagall knew he would soon follow.

"You didn't really think Albus would let Dolores throw you out, did you?" McGonagall asked Trelawney once the group was a safe distance from Umbridge.

Trelawney only hiccupped.

"There now, Sibyll, cheer up," Sprout coached. "We'll help you set your room back right. Everything will be just as it was."

"The s-students," Trelawney said weakly. "Who will g-guide th-them into the v-vast – "

"Dumbledore's found a substitute for you, Sibyll," McGonagall interrupted. Glad though she was that Trelawney had not been evicted, she could still not stand much of the woman's ranting. "The students will continue to learn, don't you fret."

"W-Who?" Trelawney asked, wide-eyed.

"I'll answer whatever questions you want once we've got you settled," McGonagall said. Somehow, they were already below Trelawney's abode. "Pomona, would you go up first, please?"

Sprout drew her wand, pointed at the hole in the ceiling, and waited until the silver ladder had solidified before climbing it. "Up you come, Sibyll," she said, holding out her hand.

Trelawney stuffed the handkerchief McGonagall had given her into her pocket, straightened her glasses, and wiped her nose on her sleeve before she resolutely faced the ladder and began her climb. McGonagall stood below her, wand ready in the event that Trelawney's footing faltered.

Finally, Sprout hoisted Trelawney through the trapdoor and McGonagall and Flitwick climbed into the Divination room, themselves.

As Flitwick magicked the trunks up and Sprout settled Trelawney into a chair, McGonagall flung open a few of the windows.

"Who's replacing m-me?" Trelawney asked after Sprout had calmed her down significantly.

"If I'm not mistaken," said McGonagall, opening one of the trunks with the flick of her wand while Flitwick handled the other, "Firenze the centaur."

"A centaur?" Trelawney burst.

"They're very knowledgeable, Sibyll," said Sprout soothingly as she set a kettle to boil.

"Well, Sibyll, you may have gotten sacked," said Flitwick before Trelawney could begin on the perceived injustice being suffered by the students, "but you also helped make Umbridge look the fool."

"How?" Trelawney queried, pushing herself up from the chair Sprout had set her in and shuffling over to one of her tables upon which a crystal ball was resting.

"Dolores wanted to make sure everyone saw you leave, that's why she decided to make sacking you a public event. She didn't plan on Albus, though. Now she's had her power undermined in front of the entire school," said Flitwick.

Trelawney smiled and gave a little laugh. "She does think rather highly of herself, doesn't she?"

McGonagall barely bit back a comment about how rich that thought was, coming from Trelawney.

"Oh, please don't unpack too much," said Trelawney as Flitwick and McGonagall began setting her belongings back in place.

"Why?" McGonagall asked with a raised brow.

"I have no wish to remain here with Umbridge present," said Trelawney firmly.

McGonagall felt her nostrils flare. "You're staying, Sibyll."

"I will not!" Trelawney insisted.

"You certainly will," said Dumbledore, climbing through the trapdoor.

"Dumbledore!" Trelawney exclaimed. "I thank you for your defense of me, but truly – "

"Sibyll, I understand your wish, but I insist you remain at Hogwarts," said Dumbledore, seating himself on one of the ridiculous little poufs across Trelawney.

"I have been most ungraciously insulted – "

"Stop being so dramatic, Sibyll," McGonagall could not help but snap. "Fifteen minutes ago you were saying that you couldn't leave Hogwarts, that it is your home."

"You've nowhere to go," said Dumbledore, ignoring the glares McGonagall and Trelawney exchanged. "You are an invaluable member of the Hogwarts staff, and you will remain in the castle."

"I'm no longer a member of the staff!"

"For the time being," Dumbledore countered. "You may sulk all you wish, Sibyll, so long as you _do not leave Hogwarts_."

"If I must," Trelawney grumbled.

"A simple 'thank you' would have sufficed," McGonagall said.

"Pomona, Filius, might I ask you to finish helping Sibyll settle back in? Minerva, please accompany me," said Dumbledore.

McGonagall followed Dumbledore away from the North Tower.

"Honestly, a bit of gratitude would have been nice," McGonagall fretted.

"She'll be unhappy for quite some time to come," said Dumbledore. "When the time comes that she _is _reinstated, she will have to split the students with Firenze. He has been told in no uncertain terms that he is not to return to the Forest."

"How horrible," McGonagall sighed. "Firenze is a cheerful fellow, though. I'm sure he'll adjust quite well."

"Dolores will retaliate."

"I'm sure. You've hired another 'half-breed'. She can't possibly be happy about it."

"That, and I undermined her in front of the entire student body," Dumbledore added. "Have you begun to prepare for my imminent sacking?"

"Albus, I really – "

"Your time to prepare is running out, Minerva."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Update. Awwww yisssssssss!

Review if you can't stand Umbridge!


End file.
